All These Feelings
by Countess Verona Dracula
Summary: (CarlVanHelsing) Exactly as the title says. Strange emotions arise between Carl and Van Helsing, emotions neither of them understand. But will they realize what's happening before it's too late? (COMPLETE)
1. Bring Me To Life

Disclaimer- I do not own _Van Helsing_ or any of the characters and stories therein. I also do not own the band Evanescence, or Avril Lavigne, or Sarah McLachlan, or any other artist that might appear in this fic. (Those are the three up for consideration... Sarah McLachlan is a maybe, but Evanescence and Avril Lavigne are for sure.)  
  
A/N- Okay, I finally sucked up my courage. There isn't enough slash in this section. I am going to write a major slash fanfiction. eep!  
  
I had this idea a while ago but hadn't acted on it. Much thanks must be given to the Wishmasters for inspiring me to finally get this done.

* * *

Chapter One:  
Bring Me to Life  
  
The sky above was soft and grey; it was likely to rain later, although all was calm now. Calm was a nice change for the man walking up the steps to the Vatican church. He was tall and clothed in a dark coat and hat tipped low over his eyes. His strides were powerful, belying great muscle, but also very quick and soft like a hunting cat's. He was the kind of man you'd want to have at your back in a fight. He emanated a sense of... power and knowledge. But one thing he didn't know was about the eyes that watched him walking into the Vatican. He had never even sensed them.  
  
Carl knew that Van Helsing never sensed him hiding in the upper levels of the church, watching him. In some ways he was happy that he didn't know, since he wasn't sure how the enigmatic man would take it. But in other ways he wanted nothing more than to tell the vampire hunter that there was always someone who was waiting for him to come home, watching him walk into the church and sighing with relief to see him in one piece. He wanted him to know that that someone was always him.  
  
He always seemed to sense when Van Helsing was coming home. He couldn't accurately explain it, but he always knew. He'd be deep in his work and all the sudden he'd look up and stare off into the distance... even if that was just a nearby wall. And then he'd slip off and climb his secret passage to a window high up in the Vatican just so he could watch the Hunter come home and know he was alright. Another thing he couldn't explain was why he did it.  
  
"Well who wouldn't worry for their friend when he did such dangerous things all the time." Carl reasoned with himself, climbing down from his perch and scurrying back down the passageway. He had to be at his lab before Van Helsing got there. He always arrived in time, so he wasn't worrying. There was never any reason for the Hunter to suspect he had someone watching over him.  
  
Carl found himself feeling a little sad.

* * *

"Bless me Father for I have sinned." Van Helsing murmured in the confessional, crossing himself.  
  
"What, did you break another priceless window?" Cardinal Jinette asked dryly.  
  
"Well normally I'd hate to disappoint you but I have to say that I didn't this time. There aren't many stained glass windows in Transylvania." Van Helsing shot back. The Cardinal opened the secret passageway leading into their headquarters, shaking his head.  
  
"Van Helsing you must stop being so bitter over that country. Evil is abound there and I shall have to send you back many times ere your mission is done. You do not make it easier on yourself by hating every minute of it." He reproved. Van Helsing merely sighed and followed.  
  
"I'm sorry if it's not my favorite place." He muttered as they arrived in the main hub of the Order's secret lair. The Cardinal shot him a withering glance before speaking again.  
  
"This time I have something for you that you have never faced before." He said, dusting off the projector lazily. Van Helsing tensed himself, ready for more grizzly pictures. When the Cardinal looked back at him, there was almost a smile on his face. "A break."  
  
"What?" Van Helsing asked, stunned.  
  
"A break. You have been working yourself too hard since your first visit to Transylvania, my son. You should take some time to recover your spirits." The Cardinal smiled gently, his hand on Gabriel's shoulder. "Go visit Friar Carl. I know that you and he are friends. I think he misses you while you are gone... he is not close to many people here."  
  
"I'll do that." Van Helsing nodded. He even allowed himself a smile as he walked away, although inside he felt a little troubled.   
  
How could Carl not have many friends? He was a likeable man, albeit a bit too inquisitive and a bit of a know-it-all. Van Helsing was always calmed by his presence... Lately he had almost been rushing back to Rome, eager to see him. At first it had struck him as a bit odd, but he dismissed it. They were good friends, they'd been through much together.  
  
He smiled approaching the Friar's messy lab. This break idea sounded like an interesting adversary. Maybe he'd have the chance to teach Carl some more about fighting (God knew that would be difficult) so that he wouldn't be so inclined to run away from every shadow, sometimes even his own. And then he could come along on Van Helsing's missions so that he wouldn't miss him so much. He _had_ been missing him a great deal.

* * *

"Van Helsing, you're back!" Carl chirped upon seeing his friend. It was always so easy to act surprised...  
  
"Hullo Carl." Van Helsing smiled. "The Cardinal's given me a bit of a break. Says I need it."  
  
"God knows you do. But you're in an unusually good mood for having returned from Transylvania." He remarked, puttering around. Van Helsing followed.  
  
"I visited the place where we burned Anna." He said quietly. Carl looked back at him, a bit of sadness in his eyes.  
  
"She was an amazing woman." He admitted, his voice soft too now. Van Helsing was still torn up inside about her.  
  
"Yes, she was." Van Helsing trailed off, standing still now.  
  
"Well don't stand there and mope about it! Help me around my lab! There's a thousand things to do, I could always use some help!" Carl cried, hands on his hips.  
  
"Alright, alright." Van Helsing muttered. "But if I blow something up it's your fault."  
  
"Fine then. I'll just put the Glycerin 48 out of your reach." Carl sniffed, reaching for an Erlenmeyer flask and setting it high up on a shelf.  
  
"Carl, if that's called Glycerin 48, what do the other 47 do?" Van Helsing asked innocently. Carl stared at him incredulously, shook his head, and then walked away.  
  
"What?" Van Helsing called. "What did I do?" He followed the Friar, who was still shaking his head.  
  
"Honestly, do you know a thing about science?"  
  
"I know it is very useful in making new weapons for killing things with."  
  
"Not all science is about killing things, Gabriel! There are diseases to be cured and inventions to help the crippled to be made."  
  
"You're just going to fix the world, aren't you?"  
  
"Well someone has to if you're going to destroy it."  
  
"I will not!"  
  
"You will so one day if you keep being that reckless! Or maybe worse, you'll end up destroying yourself!" Carl caught himself there. What was he saying...?  
  
"I've been trained by the best. Watch. I'll hold my hands completely at my sides and close my eyes and I bet that I'll be able to block anything you throw at me." Van Helsing said confidently. He stood there, almost at attention, with his eyes tightly shut.   
  
Carl felt rage swelling up in him. That stupid, puzzling man! Why did he never feel all together when they were in the same room? Why was he so frustrated, so hurt, by his joking comments? Why did he want him to know that he waited every day for him to come home and prayed every night for his safety? With a muffled cry he punched out, straight for his chest.  
  
Van Helsing instantly dropped back into a more comfortable stance when he heard Carl's little cry of anger and moved his arm to block the punch. But when he opened his eyes, both he and Carl had stopped moving. His blocking arm was just an inch away from Carl's striking arm when they had frozen, as though afraid to touch. He found himself a little hurt. Carl would've really tried to punch him...? Why did it matter so much anyways? It's not like it would've hurt.  
  
Not physically.  
  
Carl found himself staring into Van Helsing's eyes. They weren't really all that remarkable in color; a coffee-ish sort of hazel brown. But there was something about them... something pleading and hurt, something that spoke of old wounds that needed desperately to be healed. That was why he was sometimes so cold; he was only trying to ice away those wrenching pains. Carl wanted to reach out and touch him then, make those hurts go away with warmth instead. But suddenly he was afraid that if he did he would only hurt him more He couldn't touch him, and soon he began to ache too... He shuddered slightly and closed his eyes for a moment; when they met Van Helsing's again, they too were filled with painful longing.  
  
_ Carl? Is something wrong? Why is there pain in your eyes? Tell me who caused that pain, I'll hunt them down. No one should hurt you. You're the only one who understands me..._  
  
----  
_How can you see into my eyes  
Like open doors?  
Leading you down into my core  
Where I've become so numb...  
_----  
  
"Maybe I should go and... check on my room." Van Helsing stuttered slightly, lowering his arm. The part of it that might've touched Carl's arm burned slightly and he found himself shaking it to dispel the feeling.  
  
"Yes. You've proven that you can keep yourself alive." Carl murmured, turning away. _You can_ _keep your body alive yes, but who will be there to heal the hurts on your very soul...?_  
  
-----  
_Without a soul  
My spirit's sleeping somewhere cold  
Until you find it there and lead  
It back... home._  
------  
  
"Van Helsing!" The Hunter looked up at the sound of his voice being called by Cardinal Jinette. Looking uncharacteristically rattled, the religious leader came running up to the man he had been calling for. "Vampires. They've followed you from Transylvania. They're right on our gates!"  
  
"I'll get a horse and lead them away. Don't let anyone in or out unless its me." Van Helsing instructed before sprinting off. Carl was standing there dumbly at his station, watching him. HE could be killed...  
  
"Van Helsing wait!" He shouted suddenly, running after him. He wasn't going out there alone...  
  
-----  
_Wake me up inside  
Wake me up inside  
Call my name and save me from the dark  
Bid my blood to run  
Before I come undone  
Save me from the nothing I've become..._  
-----  
  
The stables were towards the back of the Vatican, opening up cleverly into an alleyway that snaked its way, unseen, out of the city. Van Helsing had sprinted up all the flights of stairs and through the corridors that led to them and picked the fastest horse he knew there, an Andalusian stallion. Thanking God he hadn't taken any of his weapons off yet, he tacked the horse and mounted quickly, urging him out and into the alleyway and already into a gallop. The sky was no longer downy and quiet; its black clouds rumbled and hissed as rain began to fall. He bent low over his horse as they flew through the alley and for the edge of the city.  
  
Although he didn't know, Carl chased after him. Van Helsing was always just two steps ahead, dammit! How could he protect him and help him if he wouldn't just pause for a moment... But he didn't slow. Carl leapt onto the nearest horse and negotiated it out of the stall. All his life was so fake compared to this, sitting around pouring over books all the time. This was real and raw, it was life and death itself, all covered in blood. And it was deadly. But he wanted to live now that he knew what living was... It was harsh, yes, but he wouldn't leave Van Helsing to do it alone. Not now that he saw what torment it wreaked on him...  
  
----  
_Now that I know what I'm without  
You can't just leave me  
Breathe into me and make me real  
Bring me to life..._  
----  
  
Soon Van Helsing was out of the city, his horse's hooves pounding over the empty stretch outside of it. The coming storm had ushered away all life it seemed, and as he gazed over the barren heath he thought he was alone... until he heard the telltale screech and whoosh of beating wings above him. He jerked the horse out of the way of the vampire's dive and it missed only narrowly. The male landed hissing on all fours, still in its hideous winged form. The horse reared up and kicked out and down, forcing the creature to take flight once more. The motion also stopped Van Helsing from getting to his crossbow.  
  
Carl honestly didn't know what the hell he was doing as his horse darted out of the alleyway. Thunder rumbled suddenly as he came onto the heath at the city's back door. He could see Van Helsing in the distance. His horse was rearing, nearly throwing him. A white shape flew back up into the sky not far away from the hunter, circling, and then diving again. The horse tried instantly to get away, and once more nearly threw Van Helsing. Carl cursed carelessly and urged his mount to even greater speed. His stomach lurched and his heart pounded, but he didn't stop, although he felt like it when the horse whinnied in terror and tried to move even faster. He looked over his shoulder to see the white shape of another bat, this one female, diving down on him. He yelled and swerved his horse, barely getting out of the way. When he regained control he and the horse were both wild with terror. The horse's first instinct was _RUN AWAY!_ but Carl's first thought was _Get to Van Helsing...  
_  
Van Helsing heard another screech and swiveled in the saddle to see another white bat flying towards him. Underneath it was a roan horse. Its rider wore the robes of a friar....  
  
"CARL! GET BACK INTO THE VATICAN! YOU NEED TO BE SAFE!" Van Helsing shouted hoarsely as Carl reined in beside him. The two were racing side by side, the vampires above them.  
  
"Yes, but who will save _you_?" He asked desperately. Neither had time to think on that. They had a sudden, impromptu meeting with the ground.  
  
----  
_(Wake me up)  
Wake me up inside  
(I can't wake up)  
Wake me up inside  
(Save me)  
Call my name and save me from the dark  
(Wake me up)  
Bid my blood to run  
(I can't wake up)  
Before I come undone  
(Save me)  
Save me from the nothing I've become..._  
----  
  
The male vampire had flown low and smashed, head first, into Carl's horse. The gelding fell screaming over and into Van Helsing's stallion. They had been so close that the force flung both to the ground, their riders pinned. Now the female swooped down too, fangs and claws bared, ready to shred Van Helsing to pieces while he was pinned beneath his larger horse.  
"NO!" Carl screamed, pulling himself out from under his horse.   
He lunged at the vampiress, snagging her back foot with both his hands. He flung her away from Van Helsing with her own momentum, but stumbled himself and fell in the mud. His horse had already run away, but Van Helsing's was still struggling to its feet as the Hunter tried to free himself. The kicking hooves narrowly missed Carl's head; as he ducked, one slammed into his shoulder. He couldn't contain his scream of pain.  
Lightening flared in the sigh as the rain beat down on them. Van Helsing heard Carl's anguished cry, although he couldn't see what had caused it. But hearing it was enough. Animalistic fury shot through him as he came to his feet, his horse dashing away. He saw Carl clutching his shoulder and the sight almost brought tears to his eyes. He didn't deserve this. He was the only creature of light here. Van Helsing had long ago succumbed to darkness of a different kind. Carl didn't belong here, in this freezing rain, he belonged with things of warmth. It hurt Van Helsing more than words could say to know that he was there because of him...  
  
------  
_Frozen inside without your touch  
Without your love, darling  
Only you are the life among the dead...._  
-----  
  
The vampiress flew at Van Helsing; he drew a pistol and fired a single shot. It struck her in the shoulder, sent her into a barrel roll and a near collision with the ground. The other attacker flew down at Carl; Van Helsing shouted wordlessly at him and flung himself in the way. Claws ripped across his back and blood began to pour over his skin along with the numbing rain, but he didn't care. Carl was safe. That was all that mattered now.  
  
Carl felt Van Helsing land heavily, almost on top of him. But he didn't move away; he wrapped one arm around him, keeping him close, and with the other arm raised his crossbow. The shot was clumsily fired, but a few bolts managed to rip through the wings of the circling vampires. They could hardly fly under these conditions anyway and collapsed to the ground. Van Helsing might've finished them, but he turned back to Carl.  
  
"What happened?" He asked quickly. He was so, so close. The rain from his hair and his face was falling all over Carl like tears. He wanted to wipe them away. How easily he could see the torment in Van Helsing's eyes. Was that worry for his safety....? A very odd thought struck the Friar then.  
  
So this is what it is to be loved....  
  
------  
_All this time I can't believe I couldn't see  
Kept in the dark, but you were there in front of me_  
------  
  
Gabriel could always remember pain from his past. And now he knew that nothing could top the agony he felt then. He never knew that being so close to someone could cause agony, but it did. It hurt to be so close to the Friar, for a reason he could not grasp. But he could grasp the fact that they didn't have time to worry about feelings. There were two angry vampires at their backs. He leapt away from Carl and held the crossbow firmly in two hands, firing a stream of bolts at the attackers. The male went down, the ash and dust disappearing quickly in the deluge of rain. The female shrieked and flew high, buffeted by the wind, but avoiding the crossbow.  
  
"Are you alright?" Van Helsing called, bending down to give Carl a little shake.  
  
"Look out!" He shrieked in response. He seized hold of Van Helsing cloak and flung him over to one side, rolling with him. The vampiress struck the ground and then soared up again.  
  
It was a fierce but empty moment as Carl quickly moved away from Van Helsing. Something was clicking in the Hunter's mind. He didn't have to do this alone anymore. Someone out there was watching over him....  
  
----  
_I've been sleeping a thousand years it seems  
You've come to open my eyes to everything...  
_----  
  
The vampiress landed and transformed. She was not particularly pretty, and was dressed in a warrior's clothes. She didn't even seem to mourn for her companion as she lunged for Gabriel, just now regaining his feet. He ducked and rolled, crossbow tight to his chest, and came up kneeling. He fired at her again, aiming for her empty chest.  
  
-------  
_Without thought, without a voice, without a soul_  
--------  
  
He missed. She cackled and transformed, taking flight once more. She seemed to be aiming for Van Helsing... but feinted, coming around to his left and diving down. Faster than he could see, she was up in the air again.  
  
Carl was clutched in her claws.  
  
He screamed the Friar's name, rushing forward with the crossbow held high. He took aim and fired at the vampiress. He wasn't thinking, only feeling. And he was feeling every emotion possible it seemed: anger, hatred, pain, horror, terror... They overwhelmed him like waves pounding against a cliff, and broke him just as easily. It almost didn't matter if Carl was dead by the time he hit the ground. Van Helsing just needed to have his dearest friend close by...  
  
The vampiress's claws dug hard into Carl's body. He screamed and tried to wriggle out of her grasp. Faintly he heard Van Helsing's shouts. He was causing him more pain! He hated himself in that moment, almost relishing in the pain of claws and teeth all over him. He deserved it. But then she spiraled suddenly out of control, howling. He could only assume that Gabriel had hit her. And he had. Soon there was nothing but ash holding him, and while it stuck in his wounds and on his wet body, it didn't do that job of cushioning his fall.  
  
Van Helsing was willing to do just that. He flung the crossbow away and dove for Carl's falling form. He thought his bones would break with the force of the man hitting him, knocking him to the muddy ground. It was a bit odd that he was thinking that. The Friar didn't LOOK like he weighed all that much. It didn't matter anymore though. He quickly sat up, cradling Carl as he did so. His eyes were open and moving, thank God, but dilated with pain. his breaths were choppy and Van Helsing knew he was losing blood fast.  
  
"Hold on, Carl." He whispered, pulling off his tattered coat and wrapping the Friar tightly in it, hoping to staunch some of the blood, and then shivering held him close for warmth. They were both covered mud, rain and blood, and maybe even tears that they couldn't feel crept down their cheeks, but it didn't matter. The nearness mattered, for warmth and for comfort. Carl knew then what it was to have a friend.... that fact saddened him somehow, sent pangs of pain lancing through his heart. He felt his tears now, reaching up to brush some mud off of Gabriel's face.  
  
"I wanted to save you..." He whispered sadly before his hand fell away.  
  
"You still can. But right now I have to save you." Van Helsing whispered back.  
  
-----  
_Don't let me die here  
_-----  
  
Both their horses had escaped by then, but that didn't matter. Van Helsing hefted himself onto his feet, slipping a little in the mud before moving as quickly as he could back towards the Vatican. His back was on fire with pain, but the brutal cuts and bruises there from his multiple falls and the vampires didn't matter either. What mattered now was making sure Carl was safe.  
  
The Hunter fought back tears. Carl didn't belong in this world. There was nothing here, nothing but endlessly going back and forth between life and death, wrapped always in pain. There was nothing but killing or dying, you had to choose very swiftly. Neither were for the Friar. He loved life to much to take it away or to lose it. He made Van Helsing wonder if there could be a life other than the empty one he knew....  
  
-----  
_There must be something more_  
-----  
  
He couldn't say how long it took to get to the Vatican. Monks swirled around him, asking questions, calling for aid. He stumbled through their midst, hearing his voice asking for a doctor for Carl. He carried the unconscious Friar all the way to his room and tucked him under the covers. He knew that the neurotic man would _not_ be pleased to have a bed that was wet, bloody and covered in mud when he woke up, but he was too tired himself to really care.  
  
When did I become so numb? Why have I stopped caring about everything...? He wondered to himself. Well, I do care about being there when he wakes up. That'll be a show not to be missed.  
  
Van Helsing was smiling a little as the doctor arrived. Someone steered him out of the room and towards his, but he could hardly feel it. His body was numb and cold, as was his spirit. No, it was on fire. His spirit was burning. It was odd that now, when he was so close to death and had flirted with it openly for the last half hour, he felt so amazingly alive.  
  
"It's all Carl's fault..." Were the last words the Hunter whispered before slipping off. The monks raised eyebrows at each other when they heard this, but didn't understand the double meaning.  
  
------  
_Bring me to life..._  
------  
  
A/N- Okay, that is my first songfic! --dances-- Hope you liked it. I had to edit some of the lyrics cuz the fight was dragging and I needed to wrap the chapter up, and only used the 'full' chorus once because it corresponded with Carl's line of 'but who will save you?' if you catch my drift. And it looks like this will be more angsty than I thought... In hindsight it didn't come out _quite _like I wanted it to. Anyways, please don't flame, but review! 


	2. Take Me Away

A/N-- Hey all, I'm back! And guess what? This fic actually has a _plot_ now!! That's right, I just finished the plot today! And it looks like it will be mostly Evanescence songs with two Avril Lavigne songs off her second album and a surprise guest appearance by Michelle Branch at the very end! Just wanna thank my reviewers before I go and write another chappie:  
  
**The Wishmasters**- Okay okay I'm updating!!!!! See!!! UPDATE! LOL. Now go update yours!!!!  
**Papillio**- That's so weird... My Review Alert didn't send me an email about your review. I was just browsing and I realized that this had two reviews so I read it there... how weird!! Anyways, thanks for the review! Evanescence does rock... but they're a bit overused in this category as far as songfics, so I'm gonna use Avril Lavigne for this one.  
**Jade**- I hadn't realized how emotional it is, actually... but I'm happy it came out that way. I'll try and maintain that throughout the rest of the story, but I'm not sure how it'll turn out! Thanks for the reviews on both this and Solitaire!  
  
Well, on with the show!

* * *

Chapter Two:  
Take Me Away  
  
Van Helsing awoke in his small room just as the monks were leaving it again. He could only assume that they had been changing his bandages, and looked down at himself; he was naked to the waist, with nothing on his midsection but bandages where the vampire's claws had torn into him. His first thought was 'Ow' and his next thought was also 'Ow.' But after that his brain was devoted entirely to 'Carl.' He leapt to his feet (here it must be noted that his brain did waver to 'Ow' once more, but quickly became stuck on 'Carl' again) and began to walk out the door, only bothering to pull on boots and throw his coat over his shoulders. He was a bit miffed that it was all torn and stained, but shuddered as he looked at the rips and realized that Carl, too, had been attacked and dropped from the sky.  
_Stupid Friar. He really isn't a field man. He could've been hurt! Maybe that was God's way of telling me that I shouldn't ask him to come on more missions with me. Yes, that's it._ Van Helsing thought to himself as he walked down the halls, mechanically making his way to Carl's room.   
  
It startled him a little how well he knew the way, but quickly remembered the reason. Carl had had nothing but nightmares since they returned from Transylvania, and the Hunter would go often to his side in the middle of the night to make sure he was alright. He wasn't even sure how he knew that Carl was troubled. Their rooms were too far apart for him to have actually _heard_ the panicked Friar calling his name, so the only answer was that it was some kind of instinct, the same instinct that drove him there every night, no matter where he was, to wake up as though Carl had been shouting for him. There were even nights in the Vatican when Carl wouldn't be calling out at all, but he would wake up, shuffle off to his room, and sit at his side, just staring at him.  
  
_We_ _are good friends._ He thought, although somehow it seemed a sparse answer.  
  
Van Helsing arrived at last at Carl's room and let himself in, closing the door behind him. The Friar was curled up on the bed, on his right side. He knew that was the side his friend preferred; nine times out of ten when he came in at night, Carl was lying on his right side, just at the edge of the bed, so that the small window was pouring waves of moonlight over his contented face. Now of course it was sunlight, but the effect was still nothing short of dazzling.  
  
He smiled broadly at the sight of his friend wriggling under the covers and muttering something about Glycerin 48 and took up his customary seat; a chair pulled from the desk and set at the side of the bed. He sat there and watched him, waiting for him to wake up.

* * *

Carl wasn't really sure what he was dreaming about. He wasn't entirely asleep; the fact was that he rarely slept deeply. He'd sleep for a few minutes here and there, get up, shuffle around, write something, and then curl up once more. For the larger part of his life, he had not slept much at all. But ever since he had come back from Transylvania, the need had been there and he thought he knew why.  
  
Nightmares or no, Van Helsing would come in almost every night to check up on him, and something about his presence soothed Carl. Once he had found out the Hunter's midnight visits, he'd started sleeping more often. He liked being in the man's presence, but had never been able to tell Van Helsing that he knew he was there, every night. Maybe it would drive him to stop coming. I mean, what would he think of him if he knew of his longing for these silent nighttime visits every time Van Helsing was away? More importantly, what would Carl think of _himself_?  
  
Well, it didn't matter now. Van Helsing was probably waiting for him to wake up, he already knew that he had entered around five minutes ago, pulled up a chair and sat down. Carl sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes in a gesture that even Dracula would've had to call adorable.  
  
"Morning Van Helsing." Carl yawned, stretching but yelping as his bruises and cuts screeched at him.  
  
"Careful there." Van Helsing cried worriedly. "Don't want to reopen those wounds."   
  
Carl's gaze flickered to his friend sleepily, and he didn't say anything for a moment as though he was still trying to process what had been said. Actually, he was just staring at Van Helsing... he had never seen him having just woken up. His hair was still a little ruffled and his eyes not yet fully cleared. The Hunter probably didn't know it, but he had rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward slightly so that his coat fell open. There were a few strips of cloth that came just around his ribs but didn't cover his chest; bandages for the wounds on his back, he supposed. But he wondered if Van Helsing knew that his broad, muscled front was entirely open to the Friar's view. His eyes lingered there for a long while, wondering if the skin covering the muscles was warm, wanting to run his hands over it and find out. And if it was cold, he wanted to curl up there and let his body make it warm...  
  
_What the hell was that thought that just went through my mind?_ Carl shouted suddenly at himself. _WHAT am I thinking? I am a man of God..._  
  
"Go." He croaked, turning his face from Van Helsing to hide the look of fear on his face. Sweat was dripping slowly down his body, from pain that was not just physical. It ran so deep that no one could begin to guess it, not even the one who possessed it.  
  
"What?" Van Helsing asked incredulously.  
  
"Go! Didn't you hear me?" Carl cried, more angrily than he intended.  
  
"I only came to make sure you were alright Carl!" Van Helsing shot back. "You really could've hurt yourself doing a stupid thing like you did!"  
  
"Oh, like you don't pull stuff like that every day?" Carl spat, his eyes still refusing to meet Van Helsing's.  
  
"But I've been train-"  
  
"You've been trained to die!" Carl shouted finally, jerking his head to look at Van Helsing.   
  
He couldn't even feel the hot tears of anger and sorrow pouring down his face, but each one was like an arrow being shot into Van Helsing's heart. That organ now felt sick and hot with pain, pain he could only assume Carl was feeling. Unconsciously, he reached out to touch the Friar's now wet cheek, allowing the tears to flow over it. Carl's crying slowed at the touch and he found himself wanting to lean into the touch, give Van Helsing permission not to just brush at his cheek with the very tips of his fingers, but to cradle his face with his whole hand. He began to do so, but then both men leapt back as though burned when electricity lanced through them. Van Helsing stumbled backwards, knocking over the chair, and Carl almost hit his head on the wall behind him. Both froze for a moment longer, their eyes locking... and then Van Helsing ducked his head and walked quickly out of the room, hands jammed deep in his pockets.  
  
Carl fell against the wall and dropped his head into his own palms, but there was no electricity there. They were shaking slightly, not firm and reassuring like Van Helsing's might've been.  
  
_Might've._. He thought bitterly. _Why do I care so much that he didn't wipe away my tears? Why does it matter?_ He knew there was a word for what he was feeling, but it couldn't come to his lips at the moment. Or maybe there wasn't any word for it at all. It certainly felt too deep and complex to be described by any mortal terms.  
  
----  
_I cannot find  
A way to describe it  
It's there, inside  
All I do is hide..._  
----  
  
Van Helsing went quickly back to his room, not making eye contact with anyone. He knew then that his eyes betrayed his emotions: hurt. Maybe he should stop visiting Carl at night if he didn't like the contact of his hand. It was true, sometimes the Friar would shift in his sleep and moan and he'd be unable to resist reaching out to stroke his cheek with the back of his knuckles, brush back some of that messy hair, or even take his hand and give it a squeeze if he was frightened. But... he didn't want to stop going there. Even then he wanted to turn around and run back to his room, wipe away all his tears and beg forgiveness. But he couldn't. So he flung himself onto his bed and tried desperately to make that hurt, longing feeling go away.   
  
He was sick of hiding his midnight visits, sick of worrying that he'd anger Carl if he knew. He wanted this tormented, confused feeling to just up and go to hell.  
  
----  
_I wish that it  
Would just go away  
What would you do  
You do if you knew  
What would you do?_  
----  
  
Carl curled in on himself, his sobs shaking his body and causing his numerous cuts and bruises to yell at him even more loudly.  
_Go ahead, scream at me!_ He yelled back at them mentally. _Someone needs to! I've been bad! I don't know why, but I have!_ His wounds were all too happy to comply, redoubling their pain. He relished that tearing feeling then, and reveled in it for a few more minutes before hauling himself to his feet. His work. He'd bury himself there.  
  
But even there he felt hollow, puttering idly around, not doing anything of real use. He had always been lonely at the Vatican, but now he realized whose fault it was. Van Helsing's. He didn't want just anyone, he wanted the Monster Hunter there beside him. The shock nearly crippled him and for a minute, he leaned shaking against his work station.  
  
"Are you alright Friar Carl?" asked the nearby monk who made the swords.  
  
"Yes, Father." He managed to eek out, even adding a small smile. He was anything but alright. All this time he thought his loneliness was natural; everyone wanted friends. But the realization that it could be something much more was sickening and painful. He fell into a sitting position on the floor, shaking slightly. Strangely enough, the only person he wanted near him in that moment was the very person causing the pain. Gabriel Van Helsing.  
  
----  
_All the pain   
I thought I knew  
All the thoughts lead back to you  
Back to what   
Was never said  
Back and forth   
Inside my head  
I can't handle this confusion  
I'm unable, come and take me away_  
----  
  
Van Helsing removed his boots, threw off his coat, and then lay back down on his bed. He knew he needed rest, _that's what breaks are for, right?_, but all he could think of was Carl. He knew the smaller man had come so close to being killed the previous day, but he was sick of being alone on his life-or-death missions. Carl was right, he _was_ trained to die. But he found himself not wanting to die alone.  
  
Maybe it was his fault for that fate. Maybe he was too clammed up, too cool. Maybe he should open up more to Carl, tell him how much he meant to him.  
  
_But much **does** he mean? How can I tell him what I don't even know?_  
  
-----  
_I feel like I  
Am all alone  
All by myself  
I need to get around this..._  
------  
  
Struggling, Carl finally regained his feet. It was useless to wish for Van Helsing to appear and pity himself for the aching longing he left in his absence. This time it was no mission for God that had driven him away, it was his own cold words.  
  
He started as his trembling hand broke an empty beaker, and stared with fascination at the drops of blood on his hand. He had hardly scratched himself, but they were there. Odd, it had only taken a single two letter word to send Van Helsing away. But how could he show him that he wanted him to stay, even if he didn't understand the reasons? No one knew how lonely he was, and he had never been brave enough to tell them. Once more, he didn't know the words. They came out wrong today anyway. When he had said 'go,' he had meant 'stay' with all his heart.  
  
_Great_, He thought. _If_ _my heart has decided to become involved in this, whatever it is, it sure as hell won't end up right.  
_  
----  
_My words are cold  
I don't want them to hurt you  
If I show you  
I don't think you'd understand  
Cuz no one understands..._  
----  
  
Van Helsing thought of how may times he had been lonely on his missions. Hell, he was _always_ lonely, he realized. But he had never been really missing _someone_, unless it was someone he couldn't remember.  
  
"I've been getting more and more lonely since Transylvania." He muttered to himself. His first thought was 'Anna,' but then he realized something else. That was the first mission he had really got to know Carl on.   
  
Sure, he had been there in London, but that was brief and not as deadly or trying as Transylvania. Maybe now the little Friar had made him see the yawning void in his life, and now he ached to fill it. He wasn't sure whether to hate Carl or thank him for it, and he didn't have time to think about it. His head suddenly shot up as instinct flooded him, warned him that someone was in trouble.  
  
"Carl..." He whispered to his silent room, pulling himself quickly to his feet and barreling out the door, stopping only to retrieve his coat this time.  
  
----  
_All the pain   
I thought I knew  
All the thoughts lead back to you  
Back to what   
Was never said  
Back and forth   
Inside my head  
I can't handle this confusion  
I'm unable, come and take me away_  
----  
  
Carl found himself resting very lightly against the edge of his work station, still staring at the two or three drops of blood on his palm. He poked the cut experimentally, fascinated by the two new drops that congealed with the others. What was he still doing here? He could drown himself in that red sea at any time. It's not like he was doing anything important anyway. Perpetually working at his lab, trying to change something while doing it. But Van Helsing, he was the one who was really out there, getting somewhere.  
  
_Getting closer to death! I don't want him to die!_ He shouted mentally. But that had been the bane of his existence as he waited for midnight meetings, watched for solitary figures to walk up the steps of the Vatican. Every time he did one of those things in and was met with loneliness, he was faced with one horrible fact: that Van Helsing might one day never come home.  
  
He squeezed the small cut a little harder. It wasn't like anyone would notice.  
  
-----  
_(I'm going nowhere)  
On and on and  
(I'm getting nowhere)  
On and on and  
(I'm going nowhere)  
On and on and up and on_  
------  
  
Van Helsing's pace quickened and then doubled on his way to Carl's lab. He actually aware of where his feet were taking him; apparently they had had some secret conference with his heart and were now determined to get somewhere. He just assumed that he was going to Carl's lab, and confirmed those thoughts when it came into sight.  
  
Carl was leaned up against his workstation, for once idle, captivated by something in his hand. When Gabriel drew closer, he saw that it was blood and knew immediately that this was cause for concern. Carl _hated_ blood in any way shape or form...  
  
"Carl?" He asked. The Friar looked up quickly.  
  
"I-i cut myself. But no, not like that!" He amended quickly upon seeing the look of horror on Van Helsing's face. "It was an accident..." Carl hung his head, but not fast enough for Van Helsing to miss the distant, glassy look in his eyes.   
  
The Hunter reached out and cupped the Friar's injured hand in his own, wiping away some of the blood to look at the cut. It was small, he must've forced the blood out on purpose. He caught hold of Carl's other hand, then dropped it to tip up his head and stare into his eyes; he was met with the same vaguely lost look as before. Brushing some of his reddish hair out of the way, he rested his palm on Carl's forehead and noted that his whole body was clammy and he was shaking slightly.  
  
Carl closed his eyes and leaned into the touch of Van Helsing's hand with a soft moan. Of course, Van Helsing would never suspect that this was done out of desire. He assumed that it was another sign of Carl being sick.  
  
_And I am_. Carl thought. _Sick_ _with a disease I cannot name out of fear...  
_  
"You're sick, Carl!" Van Helsing chided gently. Both noticed that he still had not relinquished his hold on the Friar's hand, but pretended not to.  
  
"I don't need you to tell me that." He quipped with a shadow of his usual impertinence.  
  
"Then you shouldn't have left bed in the first place."  
  
"Well you left, too." He said so softly that his companion almost didn't catch the words.  
  
"Come on, let's get you back there." Gabriel sighed, at last dropping Carl's hand and beginning to walk forward, his other hand resting lightly on the small of Carl's back and leading him that way.  
  
"I want to lean on you, Van Helsing. I'm tired... so tired..." Carl whispered drowsily as they walked on. He was hardly sure that the slurred words were his; everything grew blurry under the mask of pain.  
  
"Go ahead. Anything for you, my dearest friend." The warmth of those words was the last thing Carl could hear clearly before everything went fuzzy. He dropped his head to rest on Van Helsing's shoulder, although he was somehow stung by the words he had said.  
  
_Please don't call me that... Anything but that...._ He thought.  
  
Van Helsing led the barely conscious Carl back to his room, telling anyone who glanced curiously at them that he had been working too hard so soon after injury and needed to rest more. They left it at that, but did whisper a little at the fact that he closed the door behind them and that they could hear the creaking of the Friar's bed shortly thereafter. But they didn't know that, with utmost tenderness, Van Helsing was sliding _Carl_ under the covers and helping him shift into the position he knew he found most comfortable from many nights watching him sleep. After that, he sat on the bed beside him and lay his arm across his lap so he could clean and bandage his injured hand. Carl didn't stir throughout all this, so he felt safe to do one last thing.  
  
He raised the bandaged hand to his cheek and held it there, crying softly onto it. He knew that Carl would never do it in his waking hours and would probably draw back in fear as he had done earlier if he knew what was happening. But he ceased his tears and allowed the bandaged hand to fall back to the bed motionless. Van Helsing himself slid off the bed and knelt there, his head resting on the mattress so he could watch Carl's sleeping face.  
  
"Please be safe, Carl." He whispered. The Friar would never know how close he had come to saying 'love,' and maybe it was right. He then stood and began to slip out the room.  
  
"Don't go." Carl rasped. Van Helsing turned swiftly and saw that his friend's eyes were open slightly, watching him.  
  
"You need your rest." Van Helsing said sadly.  
  
"You can sit beside me. I want you to." He continued in his barely audible voice. It was almost husky, Gabriel realized. "If you have to go, take me with you." He began to sit up.  
  
"No. I'll stay." The Monster Slayer half-smiled, righting the fallen chair and sitting down once more. Carl smiled and began to drift off again. He needed Van Helsing to think him asleep for his plan to work...  
  
It did. Within minutes, his friend was asleep too. Carl sat up slowly and tiptoed behind the chair, reaching around to wrap his 'friend' in a half embrace before slowly pulling off his coat. He lay it almost reverently to the side, then slowly pushed Van Helsing forward so he began to slide off the chair. But Carl was there to catch him just before he fell, and managed to pull him up onto the bed and tuck him in. The Hunter slightly and groaned, allowing Carl to catch these words:  
  
"No... I'm staying.... here with Carl..."  
  
The said Friar reached out for one of Van Helsing's hands, resting it lightly against his cheek and allowing a few tears to fall onto it. He spoke then, not caring if Gabriel heard him or not.  
  
"I'm glad...."  
  
----  
_Take me away  
Take me away  
Take me away_  
----

* * *

A/N-- Jeez... this is an emotionally draining story!!! Seriously!!! I knew it wasn't gonna be a bundle of laughs, but I didn't expect it on _this_ scale!! Anyways, tell me if it's too over the top or if ya love it!! I know there wasn't a lot of action, per se, in this chapter, just a lot of thinking, but if you review (and the Wishmasters hand me some more inspiration) I'll get up the next chappie quicker and it's gonna have another fight scene! 


	3. Taking Over Me

A/N-- Okay, here we go! This chapter starts a slew of Evanescence songs... well, actually, just two. The fifth chapter will be Sarah McLachlan. Anyways, here's a shout-out to my reviewers:  
  
I AM SO SORRY TO ALL OF YOU!!! I SWEAR MY REVIEW ALERT ISN'T WORKING!! Forgive me if I missed your review in the last chapter, I will respond to all of them here (using the WEBSITE this time):  
  
**PineappleIce**- Thanks for the review!  
**kay()-** This actually is very draining... LOL.  
I know what you mean. Angst has to be handled delicately... you have to do it just right or it comes out depressing and boring. But I'm glad you like the way I've attempted it!  
**Papilio**- It's odd... I didn't even intend for this to come out so emotional! It's really just writing itself. You haven't heard the song I used in the other chapter? pity. It's a good one!  
**The Wishmasters**- Well hah, I updated THIS!! Oh, wait, you beat me to it... you updated _Second Chances_ this morning... dammit...  
**Jade**- I hope this doesn't go overly angsty! I'm having fun with their emotions... it's fun to write them when they're so torn. The torn-ness peaks in this chapter, so I hope you enjoy it!  
  
For anyone who didn't know this, last chapter's song was _Take Me Away_ by Avril Lavigne. This chapter is _Taking Over Me_ by Evanescence (lot's of 'taking,' eh? they need to make up their minds...) I had to edit the lyrics slightly in one place... anyone familiar with the song will know where. And there is the teensy weensiest bit of sexual content in this chapter... so if yall are against guys being together and kissing, you might wanna skip over part of this. JSYK.

* * *

Chapter Three:  
Taking Over Me  
  
He stirred only slightly, just every now and then in his sleep; Carl had not known one could sleep so deeply and not die. He sat beside Van Helsing the whole day, determined not to close his eyes and drift off no matter how much his battered body demanded release. But he was happy, despite his throbbing injuries, because his soul was contented with merely being in the Hunter's presence, drinking in and recording every nuance it found.  
  
When Van Helsing began to stir a little more fitfully, Carl thought immediately that he was having a nightmare and reached over to run his hand lightly along the bare curve of his shoulder, murmuring quietly. But that didn't stop Van Helsing from twisting back and forth, not caring if he agitated his wounds. Carl's voice grew a little louder and his touch more insistent; he wasn't afraid now of him having a nightmare, but that he might be waking up and would soon ask where he was and why, and would leave when he found out why.  
  
"It's alright, Gabriel, you can sleep some more." Carl said gently as the other man began to sit up.  
  
"Carl?" He muttered sleepily, at last sitting up and beginning to rub the drowsiness out of his eyes.   
  
When he regained his sight, the first thing upon it was the said Friar, sitting quite contentedly in the chair by the bed. His hand still rested lightly on his friend's shoulder, but quickly dove to hide in his lap when Carl realized that Van Helsing had seen it. The Hunter began to frown, looking down at the bed he lay on, then at the chair Carl was sitting on, and then back and forth between them several times.  
  
"I'm confused." Van Helsing said dismally.  
  
"I wasn't the only one who needed sleep." Carl smiled.  
  
"So I kicked you out of your own bed?" He shook his head. "Bad me. I could've at least had better taste... your bed isn't that comfortable at all."  
  
"Well be picky then!" Carl sniffed. "It suits me just fine!"  
  
"That's because you're you Carl." Van Helsing stated dryly. "You sleep so deep you could be sleeping on top of a werewolf and not know it, then be confused when you woke up with fur all over you."  
  
"Well at least I'd have you to scare it away for me. I don't know of any living creature with a face more horrible to look upon in the morning." Carl said sweetly, a smug grin on his face. One of Van Helsing's hands reached up instinctively to comb down some of his chocolate mane. _No, let me do that for you... _Carl stopped his thought there. _I can't ruin the morning with those kind of thoughts... I still don't understand what they are..._  
  
"There you'd be wrong. It's evening." Van Helsing gestured out the small window to the darkness outside. "Or were you too busy being terrified of me waking up to notice?"  
  
"Forgive me, oh Mighty Hunter, if I was staying up all night- er, _day_- to make sure you didn't have nightmares! Now get up and go get yourself dressed and ready for the day- er, _night_!" Carl stood up and scowled petulantly down at Van Helsing, arms akimbo.   
  
Of course, his tone of voice and stance somehow reminded Van Helsing of a scowling grandmother, and so he promptly burst out into a gale of laughter. This didn't amuse Carl, who crossed his arms and shouted something about it not being that funny as the color rose in his face. Van Helsing only laughed harder, rolling back and forth on the bed, hardly able to breathe from a mixture of pain and laughter. Soon tears were rolling down his cheeks because of both, and he didn't pause to wipe them away. On impulse, Carl reached out to do that for him, an action that finally silenced the guffawing Gabriel.  
  
"Did you really stay up the whole time I was sleeping, making sure I wasn't having nightmares?" He asked quietly as Carl sat down again.  
  
"What makes you think you're that important to me?" He asked airily, sitting back down and re-crossing his arms. It _was_ partially true. He hadn't been staying up so much for Gabriel's sake as for his own. He _needed_ that closeness. But what could he say to his friend without giving himself away...? "Of course I did." Carl said after another moment. For once, he was the enigma; try as he might, Van Helsing couldn't read the look in his eyes.  
  
"Then you need your rest too." He said in the same soft tone, rising.   
  
He had known that Carl had stayed up with him that whole day, since he had still been awake when he had been moved onto the Friar's small bed. He had offered no resistance because of the warmth that filled him once he was there; the cot bore it's owner's scent, a scent that the Hunter wrapped himself in like the thickest of cloaks. It reminded him of books and knowledge, laughter and, oddly, unshed tears. He sensed it especially now, the unspoken longing sulking about in those four walls. It had struck him sharply when he felt his hand being lifted to touch Carl's face, and while he sensed it he was unsure of what should be done about it. He also felt passion, waves of passion, rolling off of his friend. But those were always there. Carl did everything in his life with passion and spunk. He would bravely stand up to those that confronted him... even if he was secretly peeing his pants.  
  
"No, really Van Helsing." Carl stuttered, but he couldn't resist being pulled to his feet by his friend and guided to the bed. He even allowed him to arrange the blankets around him and fluff up the pillow once more.  
  
"Go ahead then. Sleep!" Van Helsing waved his hands at Carl, settling down on the chair he had just vacated.  
  
"Well I can't do it with you watching!" Carl mumbled, even though his eyes were slipping closed. Actually, it was a lot easier to sleep knowing that he was there, watching over him like a guardian angel. _Or a guardian archangel... hmm, my Gabriel..._  
  
"Too bad! You need to get better quickly. I'm not spending my entire break nursing you!" The Hunter's deep and throaty chuckle was the last thing Carl heard before he drifted off, and remained with him even there.

* * *

"Van Helsing!"  
  
Gabriel, startled, jumped off the chair and spun to face the door. That wasn't Carl's voice he heard; it was deep and heavily accented.  
  
"Cardinal Jinette." He grumbled, waiting for his boss to enter. It wasn't that he disliked the man, since he was the closest thing he had known to a father, but he didn't want to be interrupted in his Friar-watching. Carl had been sleeping quite peacefully for some time now, at which time he was the best to watch, he didn't want to leave.  
  
"There you are." The Cardinal said as he entered without knocking. "I know I promised you a break, but God thinks otherwise. You are needed in Greece... a small coastal town on the main peninsula is being tormented by harpies."  
  
"The bird?"  
  
"No. They're creatures with the head and torso of a woman but the wings, tails and talons of a bird. For a while they were just teasing and terrorizing, but now they've even begun to kill." Jinette said, perhaps a little more loudly than he should've. Van Helsing made a violent gesture for silence.  
  
"Carl is sleeping." He hissed.  
  
"Then I'll have to tell him good-bye for you when he awakes to find you gone. You're leaving at once. All you should need is your pistols and crossbow, they have no special way of being killed. We'd rather you not kill them, but I don't see how you could bring one back so I'll understand if you can't. And for God's sake man, put a shirt on." He scolded slightly. The Hunter sighed and combed his hair back with one hand, a gesture that softened the Cardinal. He lay a gentle hand on Van Helsing's shoulder. "I'm sorry." He said before leaving the room.  
  
Van Helsing turned back to Carl's side and bent over him; the Friar wriggled a little under the covers, but said nothing. He sighed once more and reached out, wanting to brush some loose strands of hair back from his clammy forehead... but stayed his hand a bare inch from its destination. He clenched it into a fist and returned it to his side. Putting his coat back on and ducking his head, he left the room.  
  
Not much time after that he was dressed and in a coach bound for Pescara, a city on the coast of Italy that bordered the Adriatic Sea. From there he would board the first ship heading to Greece. He estimated the journey would take at least a couple weeks, since the coach had to firstly negotiate some mountains before they got to Pescara then the ship would have to sail the Adriatic, through the Strait of Otranto and into the Ionian Sea, around another large island, and then up to a small town on the coast near Athens. Thankfully, he was used to long travel.  
  
But as he looked at the window, all he could see was Carl's sleeping face...  
  
----  
_You don't remember me  
But I remember you  
I lie awake and try so hard  
Not to think of you_  
----  
  
Carl tossed and turned fitfully. Something was wrong, deathly wrong. He was alone...  
  
_No, wait, Van Helsing was there. He was in the courtyard of the Vatican, just coming home. He looked tired. Carl descended from his hiding place, but this time, instead of scurrying back to his lab and acting like nothing had happened, he met Van Helsing in the confessional..._  
  
_ There were no words spoken, just knowing glances as he opened the grate that separated them. Carl took both Van Helsing's hands in his own, turning them over and checking for injuries. When there were none, he looked up he saw a tear in the Hunter's shirt. Without hesitation his hand slid inside, caressing the warm muscle he found there lightly. There was a sharp intake of breath- he could not tell if it was his or Van Helsing's- but he didn't stop. He slid both coat and shirt off of the man's shoulder and saw a bloodied wound blossoming there. Carl bent and kissed it softly, and it slowly disappeared. Without replacing the shirt and coat, he allowed Van Helsing to cup his face in his hands and bend down, planting a hard and heated kiss on his lips...._  
  
In both his dream and in reality, Carl moaned and not from pain. Part of him was whispering that this was a house of God and anyone could see this mortal sin, but the other part of him was screaming its need for more.  
  
_Van Helsing reached across the confessional, slid his hand inside the Friar's robes. They fell away easily in the dream-world, leaving his chest open to butterfly kisses and roaming hands. Then, clear as day, Carl could hear him whispering promises in his ear, promises of love and passion..._  
  
Carl sat bolt upright in his bed, then fell back down with a cry of pain when it lanced through his still-healing injuries. His heart was pounding and sweat still decorated his body. He sat up slowly this time, combing his fingers through his hair. The blankets were all over his bed; had he been thrashing? What would Van Helsing think...?  
  
It was then he noticed that his friend was gone. The chair beside his bed was cold and empty.  
  
"Where did he go?" He whispered to himself, climbing out of bed. There was no note, no nothing. He wanted the dream to rush back then. He wanted to be in Gabriel's arms again...  
  
His whole body began to tremble. What was he doing to himself? What was he thinking? God frowned on the coupling of a man and a woman but allowed it to pass, but what would he say of two men? The Friar knew all too well. So he fumbled for his crucifix and knelt on the chair Van Helsing had left behind, bathing himself in the fading moonlight and beginning to pray.  
  
He would spend the next two weeks in prayer, from dawn till dusk, only eating and sleeping when he collapsed. But at the same time he would be cursing himself for a hypocrite. He was only kneeling on the chair because he knew that Van Helsing had been there many a time...  
  
----  
_But who can decide  
What they dream?  
And dream I do..._  
----  
  
Van Helsing had not anticipated a happy voyage across the Adriatic. It was a place he would forever associate with Anna now, the thing she had wanted to see the most but had never lain eyes on. Perhaps from Heaven she had seen it with her family... but, with a jealous surge, Van Helsing could not help but wish she had seen it beside him.  
  
What puzzled him about that thought, which struck him as he lay below deck on the ship bound for Greece, was that it didn't hurt as much as it usually did. Usually, he couldn't even make his tongue say the word 'Anna.' But now it came easily, smoothly, like it was nothing but the white scar left behind by a painful wound. Even more puzzling was his next train of thought... _Carl_.  
  
He rolled onto his other side so that he faced the wall and the empty bed beside him. But Van Helsing swore he could see Carl lying sleeping beside him. Not knowing what he was doing, he stretched his arm out lazily to wrap it around the Friar's waist and pull him closer... but nothing was there.  
  
Van Helsing rolled over and sat up on the edge of the bed, his brow furrowed in thought. Why did it hurt so much that nothing had been there? What did he expect? Carl had been too sick to come along. He forced himself to lay back down, a deep cough shaking him. He was beginning to get a cold from his night out in the rain fighting vampires.  
  
_I'm already sick_. He thought bitterly. _Without Carl beside me, I have nothing worth fighting for._  
  
----  
_I believe in you  
I'll give up everything just to find you  
I have to be with you  
To live, to breathe  
You're taking over me_...  
----  
  
After those weeks of prayer, Carl realized what he was doing to himself.   
  
"I can't let you do this, Gabriel." He said to the air around him. "No matter how I feel for you, I can't let you destroy me." He had a cold from the fight with the vampires, but felt well enough to work.   
  
Besides, his cold was nothing to the sickness in his spirit. How could he have such dreams? They say that dreams show us what we are, what we wish to become, or what we fear the most in ourselves, but this was an odd combination of all those three. He _did_ have... strange feelings for Gabriel. He _did_ sometimes wish... that the Hunter would come home and wrap him in a warm, hard embrace and wipe away all his tears. He _did_ fear... that this might destroy his chance for salvation.  
  
"Well, if it was anything like the dream it wouldn't be all that horrible of a demise if it would be anything like the dream." Carl almost shattered some more beakers with the jolt that ripped through him. "Did I just say that out loud?" He said a little louder than he should've.  
  
"I didn't hear anything." Father Johnson, the monk at the forge, said.  
  
_That really doesn't surprise me. _Carl thought dryly to himself, looking at the roaring fire in front of the genial monk.  
  
"Are you sure you're alright? Are you sure you shouldn't be in bed?" He pressed, looking concerned.  
  
"No, but thank you for your concern, Father." He said sincerely, turning back to his beloved workstation.   
  
But the stainless steel seemed just that... steel. Cold, hard, and unfeeling. So unlike Van Helsing. His body had been warm and deceptively soft when Carl had half embraced him the previous day to get him into bed. With effort, he shook the memory from his mind and shuffled some notes, rearranging some chemicals that had been placed out of order. He used to be able to bury himself here when he was worrying about Gabriel, but now all he could do was stare stupidly at it. He tried to work, but couldn't. _God Van Helsing, have you reached me even here? My last refuge? The place you always leave me at? The whole world is your plaything, your workplace. But you always leave me here, in this little hole._ _I guess it's befitting someone of so little importance as me..._   
  
_That's not true!_ Squealed another part of him. _You saw him worry over you yesterday, lead you to your bed. You remember the feel his hands binding your injured one...  
_  
"That's what frightens me." Carl whispered, staring at his still bandaged hand. He ran it across his face, felt a ghost of stubble coming through. "That's what I'll do. I'll shave. I need to do something." With that, he up and left his workstation. He had to forget, just like Van Helsing had so easily forgot him and left for Greece.  
  
----  
_Have you forgotten all I know  
And all we had?  
You saw me mourning my love for you  
And touched my hand_  
----  
  
The wind rippled over the deck of the ship as it cut through the waters of the Adriatic, catching Van Helsing's hair and coat in its salt-riddled embrace. He had long since removed his hat because of it, but kept his kerchief up over his face to keep him from being easily recognized. With every foot of water they skipped lightly over, they drew closer to port.  
  
"And farther from Carl..." He snapped his mouth shut there and glanced quickly around himself. Thankfully, the other passengers were far enough away to not have heard him. Staring at the water, he tried to force the Friar from his mind, he was succeeding until water suddenly splashed him in the face.  
  
"What the hell?" Van Helsing cried, jumping backwards, his hand reaching for his pistol.   
  
But it dropped to his side with a thin laugh as he realized it had just been a dolphin, leaping out of the water. Looking over the railing, he watched it riding the wake of the boat. But they were slowing and curving inland; in less than an hour, they'd dock. The dolphin remained a few minutes more, then leaped up again as though in salute. Van Helsing got one clear look of it before it disappeared into the ocean once more. One image was left with him from that encounter; one of expressive, light blue eyes.  
  
"I must be losing my mind... seeing Carl's eyes on a dolphin..." He muttered to himself, heading below deck. It was still hot here, but he'd need to fetch his coat to hide all his weapons under. He was already going to have more demonic women throwing themselves at them, he didn't want to add 'local authorities' to the list.  
  
Dusk was growing as the Hunter disembarked quietly. Very few people were out on the streets, and what ones that were watched the sky carefully. It wasn't surprising to Van Helsing, who walked cautiously down the empty lanes and listened to the quiet sounds of night all around him. He kept one hand always discreetly on a pistol and the other not far from his crossbow as he placed his hat on his head and tipped it low. An earlier mission in Greece, involving a Minotaur, had earned him unsavory fame.  
  
He had a hard time deciding what was more unsavory, though: being wanted dead in all of Europe, or the taste of the ground he was suddenly knocked onto. Bile did nothing to improve the flavor as the same claws that had sent him careening dug into his already shredded back. He bit his lip against a scream as he rolled to one side to fire at the harpy trying to lift him up. Fortunately, she was not half as strong as a vampire and was failing miserably. Gabriel wasn't more than three feet off the ground when he aimed his pistol and shot her in the head, killing her instantly. She fell to the ground near him, but only Van Helsing rolled to absorb the shock and build enough momentum to stand. It was a position that made him vulnerable to the attack of the four other harpies diving down towards him.  
  
The Monster Hunter let go then, let all his molten rage and hurt and confusion pour into the bullets he fired. He aimed and fired without question or thought, mercilessly taking down two of his winged enemies before they were close enough to strike. A third he hit in the wing; she fell onto a nearby rooftop and rolled off, hitting the street with a less-than-happy hiss. He aimed and tried to kill her too, but was swept off his feet with the attack of the fourth. She was much smarter than the first harpy had been. She knew she could not lift him up. But instead she rammed into his ribs and drew one clawed hand hard across his chest, tearing the fabric of his vest and shirt and jerking the crucifix he wore off in the process. But it didn't faze him; he hit the ground shooting once more, catching her on the foot and then standing up to shoot the already injured one in the chest.  
  
Now all that was left was the fourth. She landed on a nearby streetlamp, balancing on one foot and screeching at him. She might've been pretty as a human; she had raven hair and a sleek, toned body. Her wings were like a raven's too, but her face was twisted with animalistic rage and pain.  
  
_How alike you and I are, you will never know. _Gabriel thought to himself. He cocked the pistol once more and aimed for her heart, but found himself somehow reluctant to fire. _Will this bullet save you? Will it take away your pain? It will only be sending you to Hell, as_ _your claws tearing out my heart would send me to Hell for the way I've been thinkin about Carl..._  
  
It was useless to deny it anymore. They had become close friends since Transylvania. And on his way to Greece, when he wasn't plagued by nightmares of his past... he would dream of the Friar. Just simple things, like walking together, kissing each other, laughing together, hugging... He felt warm just remembering them, but a little scared. Was the Left Hand of God supposed to feel like this...?  
  
There was no more time for thought as the harpy made her final stand, lunging at him with frightening speed.  
  
----  
_I knew I loved you then...  
_----  
  
Even though he knew everything must be screaming by for the bystanders gathering around, time grew very sluggish for Van Helsing. He pulled the trigger as the harpy grew closer, so close that when her dead body began to fall it hit his. On instinct, he turned and threw her away from himself with a cry of rage. She hit a nearby streetlamp and fell lifeless to the ground, but he still wasn't sure she was dead. He was haunted by the glimpse of blue eyes he had gotten just before he had shot her- would he see Carl everywhere now?- and began to shake, firing one more time just to make sure that she was dead. But there were no bullets left and he let the pistol slip to the ground.  
  
"It's the murderer!"  
  
"It's Van Helsing!"  
  
"Get him!"  
  
He knew why the crowd pursued him; they were poor and needed the money his bounty would bring. They needed it so badly that they were fighting each other for the right to kill him. He heard their shouts and jeers but couldn't stop or defend himself, but he kept running. Carl would save him...  
  
----  
_I believe in you  
I'll give up everything just to find you  
I have to be with you  
To live, to breathe  
You're taking over me..._  
----  
  
Carl arrived at last at one of the washrooms in the Order's catacombs. The one time he ever handled a knife was when he shaved and he was leery about doing it when he was so weak, but really felt he had no choice. He _needed_ something to do, and if he didn't shave he would look scraggly and defeated when Van Helsing returned.  
  
Once, he had let some stubble overtake his face in the form of a goatee. But Van Helsing had acted very strangely upon seeing it, almost uneasy. Eventually he came out and said he didn't like it. It made him look too old.  
  
"That's me." He laughed quietly to himself as he shaved. "Innocent little Carl." But while he was far from innocent, Van Helsing didn't keep a beard. _And he still manages to look handsome..._  
  
Carl leapt back from the mirror, the knife clattering to the floor. For a second there, he had sworn he had seen Van Helsing reflected there, grinning happily at him. And he _liked_ it, he realized as he felt a few beads of perspiration dripping over his body. He liked being haunted by the enigmatic Hunter...  
  
"How can I be considered innocent when such thoughts as these possess me?" He asked the silence around him. Without knowing it, he fell to his knees and closed his eyes, hands folded in prayer.  
  
_What is happening to me...? God above... Kyrie eleison... Lord have mercy... Christe eleison.... Christ have mercy.... Gabriel.... Van Helsing, have mercy..._  
  
-----  
_I look in the mirror  
And see your face  
If I look deep enough  
So many things inside that are just like you  
Are taking over..._  
----  
  
The townspeople gave up the hunt not long after it began, leaving Van Helsing to wander in search of a place he could secure a coach at all that night. He never found one, but as dawn's rays broached the sky he managed to buy a horse off a wealthy farmer and ride to Athens, where he bartered the horse for passage back to Pescara. Thankfully, it was the same ship he had arrived on, and the captain was friendly to the Order and gave him no trouble. That was all well and good, since he was tired and wanted nothing more than rest, but he would've been willing to fight his way home just as Odysseus had, as long as it meant he would get to see his beloved Friar.  
  
Little did he know that thousands of miles away, someone was willing to sell his soul, which he already considered damned anyway, for the sight of his face. Even though he didn't know it, Carl was still there, waiting for him to come home. And maybe bothw ould find out upon that homecoming that they were not as damned as they thought. Something was waiting there for them both, something that would blur the lines between Heaven and Hell.  
  
----  
_I believe in you  
I'll give up everything just to find you  
I have to be with you  
To live, to breathe  
You're taking over me...  
_----

* * *

A/N- Hmm... mixed feelings about that chappie. I'm not sure I pulled it off quite right. I did have fun using a map and picking actual cities and using the real name of oceans and seas and straits and crap!! But I'm not sure how well it came out. By the way, _kyrie eleison_ and _Christe eleison_ are real Latin. Thank God for _the Hunchback of Notre Dame_ soundtrack, eh? LOL. Review, I _hope_ you liked this chapter! Next chapter promises to be better! 


	4. Haunted

A/N- This chapter is a unique one. Anna makes a sort of appearance, and it's all following Van Helsing. So no Carl... sorry!  
  
**The Wishmasters**- --hugs back-- i feel so wuved...  
Evanescence songs definitely fit the overall mood of Van Helsing... this fic is gonna be 14 chapters. Originally, it was gonna be 11 chapters, each and Evanescence song, but not all of the songs would work with my plot so I took out a couple (Going Under, Everybody's Fool and Tourniquet. Originally, I would've taken out Whisper and put Tourniquet in, but I changed my mind) and added a song that's not on Fallen, then decided to use a couple songs from other artists.  
ROFLMAO, that's too funny that we have the same song for the third chapter!! LOL...   
**Peekaboo42**- Yes, there will be much Carl suffering later on in this story! And no, both he and Van Helsing as still injured...  
**Papilio**- Yay, more hugs!! --hugs back-- I like hugs!! Angst muchly, eh? I'm lovin' it too... Evanescence songs completely compliment the Van Helsing genre, they work almost TOO well. Here's another Evanescence songfic for ya!  
**PineappleIce**- I'm glad you liked the whole dolphin-Carl thing, I thought it was a nice touch too. I hope you continue to love this!  
  
I just realized how bloody long this fic is... It's already 30 pages and only four chapters!!! Jeez.. anyways, the song for this chapter is 'Haunted' by our favorite band, Evanescence. Next chapter is a Sarah McLachlan song!!

* * *

Chapter Four:  
Haunted  
  
The Adriatic Sea was anything but a cradle that night. Surely, it rocked Van Helsing back and forth as tenderly as any mother would've, but something about it was... eerie, out of place. Children's lullabies, so innocent in the daytime, were slipping slyly through his head. And now, somehow, they were terrifying. That was the way of the night, taking things and twisting them so that they slide away and become other than they are. It is a treacherous time, a time of illusion and nightmare.  
  
Van Helsing was normally at home in the night. He had to be in his line of work. But he hated this night. It had stolen Carl from him. He could summon no image of the Friar to his mind, couldn't recall the sound of his voice or remember his laughter. It was as though he had never existed... but Van Helsing knew he had. He just _knew_ it somehow.  
  
He tossed and turned out of synch with the sea, leaving him sick and disoriented. But he couldn't hold still, it would be the death of him. The demons that haunted him would bear down on him if he didn't keep moving to stay out of their hellish clutches.  
  
The Hunter tried to still the rapid beating of his heart. What could save him from these night terrors if they didn't exist?  
  
_Knowledge_. He thought. _I know they don't exist._ So he began to talk quietly to himself, knowing that he was alone in the ship but for the captain and the crew, who were all above deck. He spoke to himself of what he remembered of Carl, and then slipped into a monologue of all he knew about all the monsters he had ever fought. Some of the information about their powers, weaknesses, and locations was centuries old, but he trusted them to protect him and assure him that under his present circumstances none of them could exist. It didn't help him understand why he was still there, awake, when there was nothing to be frightened of. At least, the rules he was whispering to himself said so.  
  
But nightmares don't exactly play by the rules, do they?  
  
----  
_Long lost words whisper slowly  
To me  
Still can't find what keeps me here_  
----  
  
All his known life, Gabriel Van Helsing had been alone. There were times when it was necessary and welcome, and other times when it was like a needle was being pressed into absolutely every pore on his body and being driven slowly inward. When they finally made it into his body they'd all press in on his heart with a million sharp, icy jolts of pain. Finally, the whole world would shrivel up and crumbled around him.  
  
This was one of the times when he wished to God that he was by himself. Because right then he had that crawling feeling, that instinct born by years of fighting evil that told him he was not alone. He rose slowly from the bed, drawing his other pistol out from its resting place under the pillow and cocking it, then laying it neatly on his lap. It would bring rationality and sanity back to him and scare away whatever specter was lurking in the shadows.  
  
But the feeling didn't go away.  
  
He wasn't alone.  
  
----  
_When all this time I've been so alone  
Inside..._  
----  
  
He could've sworn it then. He could've sworn he heard her voice... The Hunter was on his feet in an instant, pistol ready to fire at any shadow so much as twitched. And then he heard her voice again...  
  
----  
_(Will you stay?)_  
----  
  
Anna's ghostly form appeared before him, her eyes sad and pleading.  
  
"Van Helsing." She said quietly.  
  
"Anna..." He almost wanted to believe her then, reaching out as though to touch ehr shoulder. But the second he did, his hand transformed into the clawed paw of the werewolf once more and suddenly Anna was no longer standing upright. She lay on the floor of the cabin, her head at an odd angle, her eyes glazed and staring. "No!" Van Helsing shouted, backing away and into a wall, dropping his pistol.  
  
"Van Helsing!" Anna called, more urgently this time. She was on her feet once more, her body unmarred, But Van Helsing continued to back away. As she was reaching out towards him, he could see the claws of the Brides of Dracula, and her mouth erupted into hideous fangs as she dove for him. He jumped to the side, away from her, his whole body shaking. He had killed the Brides. He had killed Anna... why were all his nightmares suddenly in one room, watching him, threatening to pull him down into madness?  
  
"Please listen, Gabriel!" She called again with full desperation.  
  
"I won't listen to you! I won't let myself be taken under!" He shouted, pistol ready to fire. "I know you don't exist!"  
  
He started to back away again, until he hit another wall. Then suddenly the floor was jerked out from under him and he lay on his back, looking up at the ceiling. The baby vampires were all around him, shrieking wildly. _No_... _I killed them too..._ Van Helsing scrambled back to his feet and kept his pistol on the screeching monsters. And then they all piled on top of each other and burst into green goo. From their ashes, Anna rose once more.  
  
"You must listen to me! You must believe that these things are not real!" She begged.  
  
"Then neither are you. I killed you, Anna. Must you haunt me?" He choked.  
  
"I must love you!" She cried, ethereal tears wobbling on the brink of her eyelids.  
  
Van Helsing hesitated, lowering the pistol slightly. Anna began to advance, her mouth open to speak... and then she was Dracula in his hellbeast form, lunging after him with fangs bared. On instinct, he ran. He had to get away... He couldn't be taken under by these demons of his own design, creatures he had murdered... Some he feared, others he loved.... but he couldn't escape any of them. He looked down at his hands. He swore he could see their blood dripping off them...  
  
----  
_Watching me, wanting me  
I can feel you pull me down  
Fearing you, loving you  
I won't let you pull me down_  
----  
  
He ran out of his room and slammed the door shut behind him. He barred it with his own body, arms flung out wide and back pressed against it in an odd position that cast a cross-shaped shadow in the moonlight. He would sacrifice himself there, it seemed, to keep these demons at bay. They couldn't be unleashed on the world. Not while Carl was in it...  
  
Then he heard a soft rapping on the door behind him, and her scent washed over him. Anna... he remembered that scent. It was the scent of blood and tears and sacrifice, revenge and yet, hope. It reminded him of Transylvania and all that had happened there. He had killed her there.  
  
"You must understand, Anna, I have to believe this isn't you." He whispered to the stars above, even though he couldn't see them. "I have to believe that you are dead, no matter how real this seems."  
  
"But I'm here, here with you..." The ghostly echo of her voice was all around him and there she stood once more, arms open and waiting.  
  
----  
_Hunting you I can smell you  
Alive?_  
----  
  
Van Helsing stepped close to her, his hands closing around hers by some trick of the night. He could hear her heartbeat. She was alive! But it was a frantic and erratic heartbeat at best. Or was it all in his head? He backed away from her apparition slowly, and with cautious eyes.  
  
"Please, don't do this." She begged, arms still outstretched. He was backed into a corner.  
  
Or was that his own, terrified heartbeat he heard?  
  
----  
_Your heart pounding  
In my head...  
_----  
  
He ran again, all through the lower areas of the ship where shadows were abundant and every shadow housed a new demon. He evaded them all, ducking and spinning and brandishing his pistol. Anna was still following him, shouting his name. It was like a siren's call. He tried to block it out, tried to will himself not to be afraid. None of this existed, there was nothing to be afraid OF.  
  
_But if none of it exists, how can I defeat it? _ He asked himself.  
  
Van Helsing tried to think of Carl. Carl. Sweet, logical, smart Carl. The Friar's memory would protect him, Carl would be able to make sense of all of this. But all he could hear were the calls of Anna's ghost.  
  
"Gabriel, please! I love you..." The words reverberated all around him till they turned distorted and ugly, melting into Dracula's mocking voice.  
  
"Gabriel... Gabriel..."  
  
It was like the worst torment for his ears.  
  
"I want to hear Carl's voice!" He shouted suddenly, trying to banish all the other voices. All the sounds went silent then and he stopped running. Suddenly, he was back in his room. Trembling, he began to wonder if he had ever left it, if he was truly starting to go insane. He sunk down on the bed and wrapped himself in the gushing of memories that washed over him then, among them Carl's. He surrounded himself with the memories of Carl, built a wall that kept him apart from the world.  
  
"Carl..." Gabriel whispered. The pistol slid out of his hand, hit the floor with a leaden thump, but he didn't hear it. He was asleep, and he was safe. He was with Carl. there was no threat now of being pulled down into insanity.  
  
----  
_Watching me, wanting me  
I can feel you pull me down  
Saving me, raping me  
I won't let you pull me down_  
----  
  
Anna's ghostly form looked over her shoulder only once, sadly, at Van Helsing. She loved him still, even when she knew she could not have him. She was nothing if not happy that he had found someone else to love- he and Carl made a good pair- but he had pushed her away. Now she could not give the message she had wanted to give him. He would return home to find love there, but he would leave it again with his love in tow only to find death. He needed to heed her warning to listen to the advice he would soon receive, or all the happiness she wished them would be torn away.  
  
But now her time was over, she disappeared back into the stars, grieving as she left Van Helsing to fend for himself. For once, she wasn't sure he would make it.

* * *

A/N-- Oooh, what is my devious little mind cooking up? What was Anna supposed to warn Van Helsing of? Hehehe, that's for me to know and you to find out when you review!!! And I know that was a short chapter... but it was also a short song. And I just wanted to give Anna a chance to appear and establish that she loves Van Helsing from afar yet still wishes him and Carl happiness. 


	5. Fallen

A/N-- Hello my freaky darlings! Hehehe.... I'm having fun with this chapter.... I'm not telling you what happens.... but it's fun for moi... hehehee.....  
  
**The Wishmasters**- Be nice to Anna!! I happen to like Anna/Gabriel stories too, ya know... LOL, I forgive you.  
Anna haunting Van Helsing was actually very significant... but okay, you get lots of Carl in this chappie! You won't be so happy later.... hehehehe.....  
**Jade**- I'm happy it's not TOO angsty! There is some very mild suicidal stuff in this chappie, tho... as well as some more torn-ness!  
**Peekaboo42**- Hahahaha, my story is cooking... adds some spices Sorry, I just found that really funny.... I hope this chapter does as well!  
**PineappleIce**- Ohh yes. Van Helsing shoulda listened to Anna... hehehe... hope you aren't TOO confused, cuz you won't get any answers for a couple chapters.  
**Papilio**- Mistress of angst? --blushes-- I'm flattered, but there are others better at it than I...  
'Haunted' used to scare the bejeepers out of me. I wouldn't even listen to it for the first couple weeks I had the CD, it scared me too much! But once you really listen to the lyrics and all, it's really good, isn't it? I love all of Evanescence's songs... sorry that this chapter isn't one, but the one after it is!  
  
This chapter's song is _Fallen_ by Sarah McLachlan. Next chapter is _Imaginary_ by Evanescence. ENJOY!

* * *

Chapter 5:  
Fallen  
  
Carl no longer even went into the church or to the confessional to pray. He couldn't. He knew he was wicked, a sinner, but he loved the sin too much to push it out into the light of Heaven and have it taken away. He stuck to his room and his lab, speaking almost to no one, least of all the Cardinal, who had begun to worry about him.  
  
"When was the last time you ate, Friar Carl?" He asked. Carl was sitting at his desk in his room, scribbling away.  
  
"I don't remember, Father." Carl mumbled without looking up.  
  
"That can't be good." A frown could be heard in the Cardinal's voice.  
  
"I know, Father." He continued absently, still refusing to meet the other man's gaze.  
  
"Do you worry about Van Helsing?" The Cardinal pressed. There was a long, heavy pause before Carl answered.  
  
"...yes, Father."  
  
"Carl, you need not be so formal. I know that he is one of your only friends and that you worry for his safety. I do too. He is like the son I can never have. But you cannot allow your worries to kill you like this." The Cardinal paused. "Or is it something else?"  
  
"I'm not sure." Carl said hesitantly, leaning back in his chair but keeping his eyes straight ahead and glazed over.  
  
"If something is weighing on your soul, you should go to confession. That is another place we have not seen you at in some time." Jinette chided quietly.  
  
"I know that I should go, but I have so many-" Carl began.  
  
"Battles to fight?" He smiled softly at the look of surprise on Carl's face. "Van Helsing is not the only warrior here, this I know. But do not worry... if you put faith in God, you will succeed." With that, he left.  
  
"Yes, but I fear that God may have forsaken me for the devil." Carl shuddered, remembering the dreams that had been coming to him of late. None had arrived that last night, since he had been unable to sleep for worrying.  
  
Cardinal Jinette was right. A battle had been raging back and forth across his soul ever since Van Helsing had left for Greece, a battle that was threatening to rip him apart. On one hand, both he and Gabriel were men of God. But on the other hand, they were mere mortals struggling to stop the world from being sucked down into Hell. Theirs was a life of darkness and secrecy with as few comforts as can be left to someone who knows that all their nightmares are real. Could he not have his one good dream come true and be allowed the comfort of Van Helsing's arms?  
  
He knelt in the small square of light formed by the only window in his room. It was a small comfort too as it wrapped its warm, golden arms around his shaking form. He could almost imagine that it was Van Helsing... He began to reach for his crucifix, but his hand trembled and fell back to his side before he could touch it.  
  
_It's a sign,_ he thought. _I have become unholy from these thoughts. I can no longer bring myself to touch the cross...._  
  
Carl started to pray, but could no longer bring himself to do that either. At last he rose to his feet, standing now in the square of light and looking straight into the sun, not caring that his eyes watered dangerously.  
  
"I don't know if you will still listen to me." He said in a shaky voice. "And I think this may be the last time I try and get you to. I've asked you again and again to deliver me from these sinful thoughts... but you don't seem to care.  
  
"Dear God above, tell me what I'm doing wrong. Why am I cursed with these thoughts, with this burning need inside me? I-if I must be burdened with them, then I ask you to do one of two things."  
  
His voice rose in a trembling cry, and when he heard his own words Carl wasn't sure if he was imploring the devil or God.  
  
"Either take these feelings of love and lust for Van Helsing away from me or fulfill them. Because if they go on much longer I'm afraid I might not have any cause for salvation anymore. I'm afraid my very soul will be forfeit."  
  
----  
_Heaven bend to take my hand  
And lead me through the fire  
With the long-awaited answer  
To a long and painful fight_  
----  
  
Sighing, Gabriel leaned over the railing of the ship. He had been sick earlier that day, sick with apprehension and confusion, but now he was simply exhausted. That night, when he had at last drifted off, he had dreamed of Carl. But it wasn't the simple dreams he usually had... they were passionate and dark dreams that left him sweaty and dizzy in their wake. He wondered then if Anna had come to warn him of this, that he was falling away from the path of right and dooming himself for hell. Again and again he tried to call her spirit back to him to get the answer, to no avail.  
  
At least he would be seeing Carl soon. That was where the apprehension was coming from. He wasn't sure he could bear to look at the Friar without dying of shame and want. But he wasn't sure he could live without ever looking upon his face again...  
  
"I'm trying, God. I'm trying to be your Left Hand and do what you ask. But I'm not getting anything in return. I know my reward should be a place in Heaven... but hell, right now I'm here on Earth and I need just a small taste of that reward. Just one taste of his lips..." Gabriel let his voice trail off there. He had known Heaven when he kissed Anna, but he had offered too much. His plan had been too extravagant, too daring. It had cost the gypsy princess her life. Not an hour after he had tasted Heaven on her lips he had tasted Hell in his tears.  
  
This was a thousand times worse than that. The thing he wanted the most, the one reward he wanted to beg God for, was so close within his reach. He shuddered, remembering how many times in the days before he had left they had touched innocently. They still left fire on his body. _So_ close...  
  
----  
_Truth be told I've tried my best  
But somewhere along the way  
I got caught up in all there was to offer  
And the cost was so much more than I could bear_  
----  
  
Carl sank slowly to his knees once more, his face awash with tears that sparkled in the sunlight. But he hated that light now. It wouldn't help him, it wouldn't make anything right. It just made all his hideous faults more and more apparent, it just showed how wretchedly far he had fallen from the path of right and good and how far he was from having what he wanted. He had seen Van Helsing kiss Anna, why couldn't he have that for himself...?  
  
A very tiny part of him began to squeak then.  
  
_What's wrong with you? You shouldn't be thinking this..._  
  
"I want to think it now." He whispered. "I want it... so badly... it hurts..." As if to illustrate this to some invisible person in the room, he crawled into the shadow and wrapped his arms around his middle as though he'd be sick.  
  
_I told you you'd get it someday... with all your cursing and lusting... this is your punishment..._  
  
"It's not punishment if I enjoy it..." Carl whispered back, more tears leaking out of the corner of his eyes as he shut them tight against the darkness and the light. Hell, he was shutting them out against the whole world right now. He hated all of it, all of it. Every little bit of it except for Gabriel Van Helsing....  
  
----  
_Though I've tried, fallen I have  
Sunk so low  
I messed up  
Better, I should know  
So don't come round here  
And tell me I told you so_  
----  
  
He started off doing everything right. He ate well and got a good night's sleep, did all his schoolwork and prayed every night. He always sought to make saving the world a little easier and only worked to good ends with good means. He always believed that he could change the world doing what he did, and when Van Helsing came into his care, battered and broken of body and spirit, he thought he could change him too. He could make him trust people and believe in God again. And he had. He had become his friend and confidante.  
  
"But I couldn't change him enough." Carl whispered. "I can't make him love me..."  
  
_What tells you that he doesn't? _Asked a smaller still part of him. He opened his eyes to the world again. The light didn't seem so harsh now and the darkness didn't seem so menacing. The words echoed in his mind once more, awakening some form of hope within his aching chest.  
  
----  
_We all began with good intent  
When love was raw and young  
We believed that we could change ourselves  
The past could be undone_  
----  
  
Van Helsing stood back from the railing, suddenly feeling very tired. Tired of waiting. Tired of hoping. Tired of fighting. He was sick of waking up alone and feeling, in that lonely light, every wound on his soul that would never go away. How easy it would be to fling himself into the sea right then and become subject to its whims. Carl would not miss him.  
  
But then... he felt something. It was that same gnawing, twisting feeling that woke him up on the nights Carl had nightmares. But why was he feeling it now...? There was only one explanation. Carl was hurting. He was somewhere, all alone, crying.   
  
_I have to go back to him._ Gabriel thought fervently. _I have to save my Carl..._  
  
Something in him told Van Helsing that it was okay to call Carl his, despite the bitter taste in his mouth. Why love at all if it would be snatched away?  
  
_How do you know that someone will take him away?_ Piped up a distant part of him, the fire that kept him going. The fire lit by the light of Carl's sparkling eyes.  
  
"Because that's the way it always is." The Hunter sighed, thinking of Anna and a past he could not recall that hurt him all the same. But then again, they certainly did break the mold when God made Carl...  
  
As they docked and he bought a ticket for a coach headed to the Vatican City, Van Helsing could only pray that life hadn't broken _Carl_.  
  
----  
_But we carry on our backs   
The burden time always reveals  
In the lonely light of morning  
In the wound that would not heal  
It's the bitter taste of losing everything  
I held so dear_  
----  
  
Carl slept for days on end it seemed, always lost in dreams of Van Helsing. And he didn't fight them this time. He flung himself into them with relish, even the more passionate ones that once scared the hell out of him.  
  
_Hell can't be scared out of me now. _He thought in one of his few waking moments. _I'm bound for it. It will follow me for the rest of my life now..._  
  
It was a fair price to pay, though, for such sweet bliss... Who cared how far he had fallen in the dream world he had built, anyway?  
  
----  
_Fallen I have  
Sunk so low  
I messed up  
Better, I should know  
So don't come round here   
And tell me I told you so_  
----  
  
Nothing lasts forever, and while his heart and soul were reveling in dreams his body began to cry out for the worldly pleasures of food and movement. And, of course, for Van Helsing. But once Carl staggered out of bed and got some food in his system, his heart and soul joined in the chorus too. Soon all would be fulfilled, they whispered to him. Gabriel was coming home that day.  
  
"What's Friar Carl been doing lately?"  
  
"Destroying himself is what it is."  
  
"Some say he's visited by the devil in his dreams."  
  
"You _can_ here him crying out from his room..."  
  
"Maybe he's just sick...."  
  
"Don't defend him. He's always been the odd one..."  
  
"I say he's fallen into sin..."  
  
"He does seem to think an awful lot on Van Helsing..."  
  
There were many repercussions of the Friar's seclusion, and the least of them was not the gossip. While he had withdrawn from the world, it had turned its back on him. Everyone considered him mad now, talking about him while he was in the room because they figured he wouldn't understand them anymore. Or worse, that he was a sinful man who no longer possessed feelings.  
  
"They could never understand." He sighed to himself as he made his way along his secret passage and to his waiting spot. "I feel more than they could ever dream. I am mad. Mad with a love I can never hope will be returned..." For a while he thought of ways he could regain their trust. Build some amazing new invention, making a fantastic discovery... But he dismissed them all. All that mattered was Van Helsing's approval. And the Hunter would not abandon him so lightly. He would stay with him through this madness, even if he refused to cure it with a simple touch and three words....  
  
----  
_Heaven bend to take my hand  
Nowhere left to turn  
Lost to those I thought were friends  
To everyone I know  
Oh, they turn their heads, embarrassed,  
Pretend that they don't see  
But it's one misstep and slip   
Before they know it  
And there doesn't seem a way to be redeemed..._  
----  
  
There he was, walking up the steps, haggard and slow. Carl's heart leapt up while his stomach sunk. He was here, alive! But injured, it seemed. He rushed out of his hiding place in accordance to his dream. He would not run and hide this time, he would meet him in the confessional... He didn't know that he was on a collision course with destiny when he ordered the priest already there to attend to some other duty and took his place instead.  
  
Van Helsing was weary beyond all belief as he walked into the Vatican. But something was wrong with Carl, he knew it, and he wouldn't stop until he had made it better. He walked into the confessional and removed his hat, crossing himself.  
  
"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned." He mumbled.  
  
"Naughty Gabriel." Came the playful reply. The grate was opened and then the door; before him stood a smiling Friar he knew all too well.  
  
"Carl!" Gabriel cried with some shock. The Friar gave a little bow and a smile, and then looked carefully at his friend, looking for any visible sign of injury.  
  
"You look tired." Was his quiet assessment.  
  
"I'm sure I pull it off better than you do." Van Helsing smirked, looking the Friar up and down. "Did you cut yourself shaving?" He asked, gesturing to the cut on the Friar's cheek.  
  
"Yes." He said sheepishly. "I remembered how you don't like seeing me with stubble."  
  
"Well haggard and scraggly just isn't your look." Van Helsing drawled. "Here, there's some blood on it." He reached up and ran his thumb across the cut. Carl frowned. He hadn't felt any blood dripping down... but who was he to complain? Then he noticed the strange looks the other churchgoers were giving them.  
  
"Let's get down to the headquarters. I'm sure the Cardinal has a new mission..." He trailed off a little bitterly, opening the secret door and ushering Van Helsing in with a light push on the back. It was an action he instantly regretted when the Hunter arched slightly and hissed, quickly stepping out of the Friar's reach. "You're injured, aren't you?" Carl asked quickly.  
  
"Nothing serious." Gabriel assured him. "Just reopened the wounds on my back."  
  
"Then you aren't going to see Cardinal Jinette. He doesn't know you're back yet, we can get you to my room and take care of these wounds before he kicks you out the door." Carl insisted, leading Van Helsing to a different passage that went more quickly to the friary and effectively avoiding prying eyes.  
  
"If he didn't send you, then how did you know I was returning?" Gabriel asked curiously.  
  
"Just... intuition, I suppose." Was Carl's weak reply.  
  
"Ah." He responded quietly. He would not press the matter.

* * *

He wouldn't even press speech for quite some time, allowing himself to be led into Carl's room and sat on the bed. Carl practically threw a fit when he tried to remove his own clothes, insisting that he do so for him. Both would've had a good laugh if they had known how similar their thoughts were on these actions.  
  
_God, why couldn't this happen after every mission? I know it's sin, but at least now I know why so many people commit sins. It makes me feel.. whole, and right._ Van Helsing thought as Carl tugged his shirt gently off and then sat behind him, removing his bandages gently.  
  
_Why won't he let me do this after every mission? Who cares if it's wrong. I'm not even sure that it **is **wrong. It feels so... right._ Carl thought as he removed the bandages and began to gently rub in some soothing salves on the wounds.  
  
Van Helsing hardly dared to hope or dream of it, but now he found himself almost... believing it. Every single one of Carl's actions were so... loving. Tender. He was as familiar with his body, where to press to make the hurt go away and where not to press lest he cause more hurt, as though he had been doing this for so long.  
  
_Maybe in his mind he has been doing this for as long as I too have imagined it._ He shuddered slightly at the thought. That was a lie, he knew it. Carl was a man of God... _But aren't I his Left Hand?_  
  
"Sorry, have I hurt you?" Carl asked worriedly, his head popping up over Gabriel's shoulder when he shuddered. He had just finished bandaging him again. With nothing else to do, his hands strayed up to absently massage his tense shoulders. Van Helsing turned his head slightly to face him.  
  
"Actually that feels quite good." His stomach plummeted the second the words left his mouth. No, no, no, no. He didn't just say that.  
  
"Well I-I'm g-glad." Carl squeaked.  
  
"I've frightened you." Van Helsing said softly, standing.  
  
"No, no you haven't." Carl begged, looking up at his friend. The sight of his friend (he knew why the word hurt now; he wished they were more) half-clothed in his room almost made him tremble. "Please don't go." He begged in a barely audible voice.  
  
"I must." Van Helsing said, putting his shirt and coat back on. "For both of us."   
  
Before Carl could do anything, he left the room and silence filled the hole where he had been. Again their thoughts intersected unknowingly: each was afraid he had pushed the other to hard. They both thought that the only reason they had come so close is that one friend wanted the other to be happy, regardless of how wrong it felt. And both now felt very scared that they were about to lose each other even as friends.

* * *

Mute and unmoving, Van Helsing lay in his room the rest of the day. He knew instinctively when night had fallen and when Carl had gone to sleep. He knew that his dreams were more worried than he'd ever felt them to be. And, worst of all, he knew it was his fault. The little Friar must've known how badly he needed him and was willing to sacrifice his very soul to make him feel better. Van Helsing stood. He couldn't let the man he loved more than salvation waste himself away fearing for his soul because he needed to fill the holes in his friend's soul with a love he didn't possess.  
  
Silent as a ghost, he traced the familiar path to Carl's room with his feet. He felt as dead as a ghost, to be sure. He was about to give up his whole world...  
  
His whole world was right before him when he stole into the Friar's room, lying on the bed, curled up on his side. It filled him with so many emotions... they formed first a fire that melted all the careful walls of ice around his heart and then transformed into a wave, breaking the now vulnerable organ. Van Helsing sank to his knees at the side of the bed and watched the Friar for a few precious moments. He felt... as only Carl could make him feel. There was no other name for the complex emotion. Not love, not pain, not joy, not Heaven, not Hell. Just CARL.  
  
He bent down and pressed his lips to Carl's once, very lightly, and then stood and backed away. It would be the last time he tasted Heaven ever again. Because he knew now... he couldn't stay. He couldn't stay there and destroy them both. For surely that was how it would end. He would drive himself mad over something he could not have and would drive Carl away from him or else drag him down into the dark place his world had become. He couldn't bear to damn them both.  
  
He couldn't stay.  
  
----  
_Fallen I have  
Sunk so low  
I messed up  
Better, I should know  
So don't come round here  
And tell me I told you so..._  
----  
  
"Good-bye..." Gabriel whispered, backing out of the room. He didn't know where he'd go... to Hell, perhaps, by way of a knife. He wasn't sure. But he'd go.  
  
"Leaving already? At least you remembered to say good-bye this time." Carl sat up with a yawn, stretching.  
  
"Yes, I'm leaving." Every word was an effort for the larger man, that was easy to see. His eyes were wet with tears and his voice hoarse with emotion.  
  
"Something's wrong." Carl replied quietly, slipping out of bed and approaching the Hunter carefully. "Please... tell me before you go?" It took a moment, but Van Helsing soon began to talk.  
  
"I was crossing the Adriatic and all I could do was miss Anna. But every other second.... all I could think about was you. I missed you, and I felt so bad that I didn't say good-bye and... I think that I...." He cut himself off there, afraid to speak. Carl, too, could find nothing to say. But the quietest actions have always spoke louder than shouted words. He smiled and pulled Van Helsing to him in a soft, sweet kiss. His stomach quivered when the Hunter kissed him back, but he forced himself to pull away.  
  
"Well? What were you going to say?" Carl asked with a cheeky grin.  
  
"Something like that." Van Helsing smiled back.  
  
"Care to say it again?" He beamed.  
  
"Of course..." He whispered, bending down to kiss him again.  
  
In that kiss, both knew more than could ever be described. They knew Heaven in the taste of their lips melding perfectly and Hell in the tears washing down both their faces. There was love and lust and laughter and sadness all rolled together as their mouths opened and their tongues slid across each other's. It was so bizarre and perfect that both had a different, one-word definition for it.  
  
For Carl, there was Gabriel.  
  
For Gabriel, there was Carl.  
  
For the world, there was something very rare and simple and sweet: love.  
  
They would've been content to remain there forever, but nothing lasts forever.  
  
Nothing.

* * *

A/N-- I'M SO HAPPY!!! ...sorry, that chapter made me oddly hyper... anyways... there will be some yummy limey goodness in the next chapter, but to get it you needs to review!!! So review=limey goodness very soon! Oh and also, this fic is going to be 14 chapters long. JSYK! 


	6. Imaginary

A/N-- BOO! hahahaha.... limey goodness....... I'm so happy....  
  
**The Wishmasters**- Yay! I earned myself a glomp! LOL... here's some more slashy-limey goodiness for your reading pleasure!  
**Lyndsay**- Here's the limey goodness!! (that sounds so odd...)  
**Papilio**- Van Helsing wasn't going to leave on a mission... he was going to run away and probably kill himself before he hurt Carl. But we'll see what happens in this chappie...  
**Jenny Sand**- Here's some more! Sorry it took so long... my muse got kidnapped.  
**Jade**- I'm glad the chapter made you feel that way! (that thought is a bit odd, isn't it?!) I liked putting the suicidal touch in... makes it all the more sweet in the end. Thank you for calling me one of your favorite authors!  
**Kieran**- Ugh, don't flatter me so! I do no justice to the movie... but I'm surprised more people who have seen it didn't pick up on this slash! It's so obvious and such a great pairing... grr... anyways! I hope you see the movie soon!  
**Kay**- Hey, no problem! I love responding to my reviewers... it's fun!  
I brought Anna in cuz I didn't want Van Helsing to just stop loving her all the sudden. I thought she should be factored in... and also, she was a foreshadowing for something that will happen in a couple chapters after this. (DUN DUN DUN) I hope I keep hearing from you!  
  
This chapter's song is _Imaginary_ by Evanescence. Next chapter is _My Immortal_ also by Evanescence. And then I think there's two more Evanescence songfics after that... but you have to get through this one first!

* * *

Chapter 6:  
Imaginary  
  
Nothing lasts forever, and so the kiss eventually came to an end. It was Gabriel who drew back first, looking down with an unreadable expression at the Friar in his arms. Carl's eyes took a moment to open again, and when they did they took on an expression of pouting. He laughed nervously.  
  
"Something wrong?" He asked in a similar tone, his hand fidgeting with the collar of Gabriel's coat.  
  
"Well... just the fact that everything is so right. It seems a bit unnatural for me to get what I wish for." Van Helsing replied quietly.  
  
"You... wished for, wanted.... this?" Carl stammered. Great, a perfect time to get a case of nerves, right when he was getting what he wanted.  
  
"No, I didn't, I was kissing you because I hate you." Van Helsing rolled his eyes, but ceased the sarcasm when he saw the look of stark terror on Carl's face. For a moment there, he had fooled him. "I don't mean that, not at all." He assured him, running his the back of his hand gently up and down the side of the Friar's face. "Or do I need to say it again?"  
  
"It couldn't hurt." Carl smiled. He began to pull Van Helsing into another kiss, but the Hunter stopped him.  
  
"Wait." He said quickly; another look of horror on Carl's face almost tore him apart. "I want to actually say it." He took a deep breath. "I love you." No sooner than he had said those words crushed Carl against him in their hardest, most passionate kiss yet.   
  
Gabriel had half expected Carl to grow limp in his grasp, cowed by the passion, but the Friar kissed him back just as hard, clutching him as fiercely as he did. Now they were both dizzied, and when they pulled back they were dangerously short of breath. But they barely paused to catch it again, and before his mind knew what was happening Carl's lips were on fire with Van Helsing kisses. They were soft and quick, plucked off his lips like roses. They touched him long enough to send coils of molten lava flowing through his veins, but short enough to leave him still gasping for more. He finally took Gabriel's face between his hands and forced him to hold the kiss, an action that tore a moan from both of their throats. At last they both parted, truly about to faint from lack of breath.  
  
"I... should go." Van Helsing panted, knowing what they were doing to each other.  
  
"Do you really have to go on a mission so soon?" Carl's eyes were pleading as he looped his arms around the larger man's neck, watching him.  
  
"No. I haven't seen Cardinal Jinette all day. I meant back to my room." Van Helsing explained.  
  
"Then what was this 'leaving' business from earlier?" Carl asked, still not sated. The more he talked, he reasoned, the longer the Hunter would stay.  
  
"I was going to leave the Order. Probably commit suicide after two days. I thought I was going to destroy us both, me with the pain of unrequited love and you with the fear of not giving me what I wanted. So I resolved to leave... but not without good-bye. So I came here and then..." He laughed. "Well, everything happened."  
  
"You thought that... the only reason I'd love you is because I'd be afraid not to?" Carl queried, incredulous. "You self-centered oaf! You're not scary enough to do all that!" He cried.  
  
"Oh really now?" Van Helsing half-growled in his throat.  
  
Before Carl could even think of a response, Van Helsing's lips were on him again, requesting- no, _demanding_- entrance to his mouth. Who was he to disobey? He parted his lips and allowed Gabriel's tongue to slide in, exploring every inch. He could feel his muscles trembling as they staggered back, and allowed Van Helsing to press him to the bed. It was only when he felt the pleasurable weight of the Hunter's hips over his own and knew that he was straddling him did he realize what game they were playing. Van Helsing was trying to prove that he could scare the Friar into doing what he wanted, and had so far proved himself to be right: he had gained entrance to his mouth, negotiated them to the bed and secured the dominant position, all before Carl could so much as kiss him back. Well, he couldn't let Van Helsing win, now could he?  
  
Carl sat up abruptly, pushing himself further into Gabriel's embrace. As he forced them to sit up, he straddled his lap and sat up so that his head was above the Hunter's, forcing him to bend his head back. Next his arms wound around his neck and shoulders, hands tangling themselves in his hair and pushing himself even deeper into the kiss. At this point it wasn't even a kiss, it was more of a duel. Their tongues danced around each other, mirroring their outward fight for dominance. Van Helsing found himself a little shocked; _where_ had Carl learned about stuff like this? It didn't matter he concluded, although it was rather odd that a Friar could send such exquisite waves of pleasure through him.  
  
He allowed Carl to press them back down on the bed, with the Friar on top, of course. It was then the kiss was broken, and Carl moved on to kiss his face from jawline to hairline and back down again, making its way to his throat. He pushed aside the coat and began to tug at the shirt, and would've moved his conquest lower if he had not stopped and arched his back with a soft cry.  
  
Even though the cry he made was one very similar to that humans make when in pain, Gabriel wasn't the least bit worried. To the contrary, he was smirking and very pleased with himself. He had slid his hands under Carl's loose nightshirt and run his hands very lightly up and down his spine, pausing at all the right places. The action rewarded him with that cry and arched spine, obviously a sign that he was tormenting his quarry. Not that Carl wasn't doing a good job of getting revenge for it; in arching his back, he had thrust his hips straight down on what was causing this whole affair.  
  
Carl was dizzy and faint with the sensations Van Helsing was causing. It already felt like he was floating lightly on the clouds, so when he went sailing through the air all the sudden it didn't seem like that big of a deal. But his mind squeaked furiously when it realized that Van Helsing had once more reversed their positions. they were back at the head of the bed, and he was on top again. Gentle hands were lightly caressing his sides; lips and teeth nibbled at the hollow of his throat. He struggled to flip them again, but Gabriel made a tut-tutting noise and used his superior weight and size to keep him pinned.  
  
"No fair." He whimpered.  
  
"All's fair in love and war." Van Helsing laughed, kissing him again.  
  
"And which is this?" Carl retorted breathlessly.  
  
"You tell me." The Hunter's voice was surprisingly vulnerable; Carl yearned to see the expression on his face, but he had hidden it in the crook of his shoulder, where he was now nuzzling him.  
  
"Look me in the eye." He asked quietly. He could almost hear Van Helsing's frantic heartbeat as he raised his eyes to meet his own. Tenderly, he cupped the Hunter's face in both his hands. "It's love." He whispered before pulling him into another kiss, this one much softer, and infinitely more tormenting.  
  
Their lips may've remained almost chaste, having given up the war, but their hands did not. They roamed furiously over each other's bodies, still seeking conquest. it was Van Helsing who got there first; not expecting the touch of his lover's hand where he wanted it the most, Carl mewled and arched against him, seeking more. But, cleverly, he withdrew again and then pushed his body up off the bed so that it hovered tantalizing inches above the Friar's.  
  
"Please..." Carl gasped, sweat rolling down his forehead.  
  
"I really, really should go." Van Helsing whispered. He kissed him once more, and then stood without another word, heading for the door.  
  
"Wait!" Carl called, sitting up. The Hunter paused in the doorway and turned, an unreadable look on his face. "There's a key on the desk." He instructed. Gabriel frowned. "I want you to lock the door. I want you to stay with me."  
  
Here was the moment of choice. If this was devilry, then now was Van Helsing's last chance to get away. He knew he shouldn't, he knew that in the eyes of the world this was wrong... but in Carl's eyes, he could still see only Heaven...  
  
----  
_I linger in the doorway  
Alarm clocks screaming  
Monsters calling my name_  
----  
  
He locked the door.  
  
He hardly knew what he was doing as he walked back to Carl's side, shedding his coat on the way. He was lost from then on, lost in the embrace of the man he loved. Those words, however revolting they were to the rest of the world, fit as seamlessly in his mind as Carl's body fit against his. He loved him. He loved him, he loved him, he loved him.  
  
Carl loved him back. He whispered it to him so many times, words that stole out in-between kisses and were gasped out mid-caress. He repeated them as often as he could sometimes they interrupted what was happening, but on the whole it only accentuated and punctuated everything perfectly.  
  
_I love you._  
_I love you._  
  
He would've given anything in the world to stay there. He wanted to stay with those whispered words and the kisses raining down on both of them in a poignant storm. The few tears that slid down their face wove them all together, told each other everything without the use of more ungainly words. Van Helsing knew that Carl knew when he was about to come home and waited for him. Carl knew that Van Helsing always sensed when he was in trouble. They told each other stories, tales of regret and confusion, and wrote knew tales together. Tales of hope and joy and ecstasy.  
  
_I love you._  
  
_I love you._  
  
----  
_Let me stay  
Where the wind will whisper to me  
Where the raindrops as they're falling  
Tell a story_  
----  
  
Van Helsing was the first awake later that night. In fact, he had never even slept. Carl had fallen away almost immediately after their lovemaking, but Gabriel had been unable to. He had rolled onto his back and rested the slight form of the other man on top of him, wrapping his arms around his waist to make sure he wouldn't go anywhere. And then he had done what he had been doing ever since Transylvania. He watched him.  
  
Well, to tell the truth, there was some light kissing and gentle caressing and whispered promises, but mostly there was watching. Blissful observing of his new lover's every quirk. There were even some new ones, ones that had not been present before. If Van Helsing shifted even in the slightest, Carl would move with him, keeping in the same position as before, so that they'd both be comfortable. If he tickled his lower spine ever so slightly, he'd shudder and hold him closer. When Gabriel kissed the very tip of his nose, he'd wriggle it and then nuzzle his chest. He could've filled up an entire notebook of all the things he did while he slept. He wanted too, in fact, so that he could remember every detail of that night and so he'd know how to keep his beloved Friar happy.  
  
He was at peace for those precious hours, in a world entirely apart from the rest. There were no anguished tears, only the beautiful kind. The relieved kind that snuck down his face now. There was no hatred, just the swirling, passionate love that possessed him now. There were no rules against this kind of love either. There were only such things as made them both happy... He could lie there for hours, and while he knew he was endanger of forever losing himself to that bliss, he had not the heart to tear himself out of it.  
  
----  
_In my field of paper flowers  
And candy clouds of lullab  
I lie inside myself for hours  
And watch my purple sky  
Fly over me_  
----  
  
"Gabriel?"  
  
Carl didn't seem to have any of his problems with leaving that peaceful place. It was his voice whispering his name that snapped him out of it... of course, just being with Carl was the next best thing.  
  
"Mm?" and a kiss on the forehead were Van Helsing's only replies.  
  
"You sound tired. You should sleep." Carl reprimanded lightly, watching the Hunter from his place on his chest.  
  
"If you're in my arms every night, I think I'm in danger of never sleeping again." Gabriel chuckled.  
  
"Am I really that cute when I'm asleep?" Carl asked quizzically, his head tipped to one side.  
  
"Yes, you really are." Van Helsing smiled. His eyes were drifting closed, though...  
  
"Gabriel?"  
  
"Yes." He asked, not opening his eyes.  
  
"Can we talk?"  
  
"What about?" His eyes were just barely open now; narrow, glittering slits that watched Carl intently and affectionately. His hand continued to run up and down Carl's bare back, sending silver thrills down his spine.  
  
"Firstly, about your hand running up and down my back." He muttered, his eyes dilating slightly as Van Helsing's other hand joined the first.  
  
"Oh, one isn't enough for you? You're needy for a Friar." Gabriel purred, his eyes flashing gleefully.  
  
"Not funny. I won't be able to talk if you keep doing that." Carl groaned, dropping his head onto Van Helsing's chest once more.  
  
"Heaven forbid you not be able to hear the sound of your own voice." He chuckled. But his hands did freeze and curl lovingly around his sides instead, bringing him closer. Carl responded by leaving a trail of soft kisses along Van Helsing's collarbone.  
  
"I can hear your heartbeat." He murmured drowsily. And indeed he could; it was steady, strong, unfailing. Dracula may not have been able to dance to it, but Carl's heart could beat along with it without even thinking.  
  
"Is that what you want to talk about? My heart?" Van Helsing asked, incredulous.  
  
"Both our hearts." Carl replied.  
  
"And I can't touch my lover while we talk about our hearts?" He asked silkily, although his hands didn't move.  
  
"You're really quite a smartass." He grumbled back, poking him in the chest.  
  
"But I'm lovable too." Gabriel smirked triumphantly.  
  
"A little too lovable." Carl agreed with a smile. "But really.... can we talk?"  
  
"Of course." Van Helsing said softly, allowing his eyes to drift closed again. But Carl knew he was listening.  
  
So Carl began to talk. It was one of his talents. He could talk forever and still have a lot more to say. That was just his nature; he had a lot of opinions and questions about a lot of things. But one talent most would say he lacked was the ability to draw people in, make them want to listen. Van Helsing didn't agree with them; he could listen to Carl for hours on end and not even know a single minute had passed. Not that he'd ever tell Carl that. Give him an inch and he'd take a mile.  
  
This night Carl took Gabriel across many miles of his soul, letting out things he knew he must've waited an eternity to say. Mostly what he talked about though was how he felt entirely cut off from the world, suppressed and out of touch with reality. But he'd build his own reality and ignore their frustrating one. Shyly, he told Van Helsing about how deep a part of that reality he had become. Whenever the world beat him down with its finite rules and menacing punishments, he'd escape to that other reality where anything was possible. But wherever he was there, Van Helsing was too. He was his protector, his friend... his lover, in some of the most recent times.  
  
"The worst part is coming back from that world. Everything here seems so dull and dirty and sullen compared to what I've created in my mind." Carl finished at last. "But I've always been so afraid to tell anyone about my little 'hiding place.' I'm afraid that they'll call me an escapist and a coward. Cardinal Jinette has been noticing how often I've been escaping into my mind lately... He'd be the one to call me those things. He'd never understand."  
  
"I understand why you do it, though. Everyone has demons they need to hide from." Van Helsing assured him.  
  
"Well what about you?"  
  
----  
_Don't say I'm out of touch  
With this rampant chaos  
Your reality_  
----  
  
"I... have always hidden from myself. Really, I practically live in a dream world. Most people call me murderer, but maybe somewhere out there people call me brave. And the ones that call me murderer would be closer to the truth. Because if people are branded 'coward' for escaping into themselves, then I am the greatest coward of all." Van Helsing rambled quietly.   
  
"But there's a downside to living in a world like that all the time. Eventually, you find its dark corners too. And then you have to escape back to the real world, the world I know all too well. the world full of monsters and sinners and death and darkness... but it's the world I met you in. And so there's got to be some good left in it."  
  
----  
_I know well what lies beyond   
My sleeping refuge  
By nightmares   
I've built my own world to escape_  
----  
  
"You know, this whole night has been sort of like a dream." Carl remarked a few minutes later.  
  
"I know what you mean." Van Helsing smiled, his eyes sneaking closed again.  
  
"Gabriel?"  
  
"Mm?"  
  
"I want to keep dreaming."  
  
----  
_In my field of paper flowers  
And candy clouds of lullaby  
I lie inside myself for hours  
And watch my purple sky  
Fly over me_  
----  
  
Van Helsing wanted to scream with frustration when dawn came on two accounts: one, he had gotten no sleep that night for reasons explained, and two he knew he had to leave Carl. He wasn't exactly sure if they'd been quiet all that night and knew he had to get out of there in case someone came to investigate. He stood and dressed himself, then bent to kiss Carl just once more before he left him sleeping. The Friar took the separation very well; mumbling and groping around for his human pillow, then sighing with satisfaction when he realized he now had the whole of the bed to himself. The Hunter rolled his eyes and made his exit.  
  
"Van Helsing!" He winced at the sound of his name being called by an obviously angry Cardinal.  
  
"Yes, Cardinal Jinette?" He sighed.  
  
"Where have you been? When did you return?" The religious man demanded.  
  
"I returned yesterday but Carl accosted me and insisted that I rest before I was sent off again." He explained as calmly as he could.  
  
"There is no rest for the Left Hand of God." Jinette reprimanded in severe tones. "You're going back to Transylvania today. Apparently when those vampires followed you here they were supposed to dispose of you for their new leader. You need to go back and kill him before he attains power equivalent to Dracula's."  
  
"When do I leave?" Van Helsing asked in a monotone.  
  
"Any time today. I don't want to see you anywhere near the Vatican come sunset." With that, the Cardinal was gone.  
  
Van Helsing trekked back to his room and mindlessly cleaned himself up, lying still for a few moments to regain some small margin of his strength. He knew he should be focusing on his mission, but he couldn't do anything but think of Carl. He replayed the events of the last night over and over again in his head. He feared, irrationally, that if he didn't, they would cease to be real.  
  
----  
_Swirled all up in the sound  
Of my screaming  
I cannot cease for the fear   
Of silent night  
_----  
  
"Gabriel?"  
  
"How many times have you called my name in the last day?" Van Helsing laughed as Carl entered the room.  
  
"Let me think..." The Friar's eyes went to the ceiling and he cocked his head to one side, thinking. "Around-"  
  
"_Don't_ answer my question." Gabriel sighed.  
  
"Can I kiss you instead?" Carl grinned devilishly.  
  
"But of course." He chuckled, holding out his arms and allowing Carl to wrap him in a firm, warm kiss. "I'm afraid that's our good-bye kiss."  
  
"What? But Van Helsing, you don't have to worry about destroying each other anymore. I _want_ to be 'destroyed.'" Carl's voice was bordering on a whimper of fear. He really didn't want to lose Gabriel, not now. That would be the cruelest punishment God could inflict on him. Giev him a taste of what he wanted the most, then snatch it away.  
  
"It will be good-bye for the time being if you don't want to come to Transylvania with me." Gabriel replied.  
  
"Transylvania?"  
  
"Yup. Just got my new mission." He began checking that all his weapons were on him.  
  
"B-but Van Helsing, I can't come! I'm not a field man!" He stuttered.  
  
"Well if you're not a field man and you're not a lady [1] what precisely are you?" He smirked.  
  
"I'm a Carl." He beamed.  
  
"Well do Carls like going with Gabriels on missions?" Van Helsing asked mysteriously.  
  
"Do the Carls have a choice?" He asked.  
  
"Not exactly." He smiled.  
  
"I don't want to come on a mission with you. I'd rather be doing other things." He whined.  
  
"You're very naughty for a Friar, you know that?" Van Helsing laughed. Secretly, he was longing for that too. He would've given anything to just stay here with Carl, locked away from the world. But Fate had other plans, and it propelled them both towards Transylvania. A curse lingered there, waiting for Van Helsing to come.  
  
----  
_Oh how I long for the deep sleep  
Dreaming,  
The goddess of imaginary light..._  
----  
  
A/N-- [1] In the London Assignment, Carl is used as bait and when Hyde catches him, he promptly shouts 'I'm not a lady! I'm not a lady!' JSYK!  
  
Urgh, I was so ready to just take the song out and go with it... I'm not so sure, in hindsight, if it really fits. I hope it does!!! I hope the whole chapter works... I had fun writing it! The next one shall be even more fun... hehehehe.... let's say that this will start living up to it's angst genre. Oh, and BTW, all of my lyrics are being done from memory. So if I have anything wrong (I've never understood all the words in _Imaginary_) please don't yell at me! 


	7. My Immortal

A/N-- Okay! --rubs hands together-- Now we get to the good stuff... Sorry for the delay in getting here, though! Working on three major stories (two fanfiction and one not) all at the same time was a really stupid idea I had.  
  
**Papilio**()- Thank you so much! I'm glad you thought the song worked.. I was having kittens over that.  
**PineappleIce**-..... dances like a pineapple? ROFLMAO! Of course I have to make life hard for them, this IS an angst romance!  
**Jade**- Your review made me laugh so hard!! I'm glad I pulled off the kiss/intimate scene well; it was one of my first of the type. I hope you enjoy this chapter too!  
**melly()-** Hey, that's my nickname! Thanks for the review!  
**The Wishmasters**- Yup, our (naughty) little Friar has got some moves!!  
I'm glad you liked that scene, I couldn't resist! Actually, it goes back to an inside joke with a couple of my friends... they'd get it completely... but I'm glad it made you laugh!  
I felt like I was the only one who hadn't seen the London Assignment too! But then I bugged one of my friends into renting it. GO RENT IT NOW! IT'S FRICKIN' HILARIOUS!  
**Chibi-Kaz**- Wow... that's lofty praise! I guess the only thing I can say in return is that your review was one of the most well-spoken I've ever gotten! Thank you!  
  
This chapter's song is _My Immortal_ by Evanescence. Next chapter's song is _Whisper_ by Evanescence. (Also, yall could consider Solitaire, originally meant as a stand-alone fic, to be a deleted scene from this fic.)

* * *

Chapter Seven:  
My Immortal  
  
"Ah, lovely Transylvania. Dark, gloomy, paranoid, and cursed with the worst luck on the face of the planet." Van Helsing said with scathing cheer. Carl winced at his mockery.  
  
"You do know that the people around us can hear you, don't you?"  
  
"I know and I don't care."  
  
"You really hate this place, don't you?" Carl asked innocently enough.  
  
"Yes. I do." Gabriel replied a little shortly. Later, where no one could see them, the Friar remembered to give him a consoling kiss.  
  
They secured a room at an inn in Budapest. There was still daylight left, and Van Helsing expressed no wish to be leaving. He didn't express much of anything as a matter of fact; he just stalked around the room, arranging everything carefully. He was on the knife-edge of awareness, utterly and entirely consumed by paranoia.  
  
Why, WHY did he have to bring Carl along?  
  
It wasn't like Carl had done anything wrong, actually. It was just the fact that everywhere they went, a near-death experience for the Friar occurred. Or, nearly occurred. Carl seemed to be oblivious to the fact that every two seconds something nearly fatal happened to him. He was also oblivious to the fact that it was Friday the thirteenth. Van Helsing was all too aware of both; like a rotten cherry on top of a melting ice cream sundae, Anna had begun to haunt him again. She was even more urgent this time, desperate and fearful. But even though she kept insisting she was there to help, he was still terrified of her. He got little sleep on their voyage.  
  
He appreciated Carl's presence this time around. They'd spend many a frozen night, curled up together, naked and not caring who came in, talking or just reveling in each other's presence. They learned a lot about each other in those days, a lot of little things that might not have mattered to some but meant the universe to them. Things like what their favorite meal was, what their worst fear was, what the best time of their life was, and when they had hit their lowest point. That was how it was with them; it went from light to dark to light again. Their conversations were paradoxes, beautiful, misunderstood, and perfectly contradicting. They could breathe out a sob and a laugh at the same time, and did so often.  
  
They were still learning a lot about each other, Carl realized. For one thing, Gabriel was absolutely the most ticklish man he knew. He was shivering with held back laughter now, as Carl was rubbing his cheek against his broad chest. They could hardly stand in the same room together without touching at some point, whether it involved a simple brush of hands unnoticed by strict society, or the kisses they rained down on each other when in private. They loved each other that much. And there was... a fear there too. Perhaps they were so intense because they knew somewhere inside their time would be short.  
  
His lover was upset that day, this much he knew for certain. Gabriel's eyes stared into Carl's, but saw nothing. Every now and then, he'd catch him watching him with a stricken look on his face. Of course, he'd quickly look away. His lover was not a man to share his personal demons.  
  
Carl slowly coaxed Van Helsing into lying down on the bed and lay there on top of him. He laced his fingers through Gabriel's and watched the Hunter, silent and resigned to not knowing what was going through his mind. Van Helsing's eyes flickered to meet his; that stricken look again.  
  
"Tell me what's wrong." The Friar pleaded softly, without thinking.  
  
"I don't like Transylvania. Something in the air... makes me wary. I'm afraid." He said. From the look in his eyes, it was clear that his fears- whatever they were- were as sincere as his tone. Carl raised himself onto his elbows and kissed Van Helsing very tenderly, running his hands along his arms to reassure him. A little limply, Gabriel wrapped his arms around Carl's waist and kissed him back for a moment before Carl drew away. Now it was the Friar's turn to bear a look of anguish.  
  
Somehow, in that kiss, Van Helsing's fears had jolted into his body. He saw them in his mind as clearly as a bright pennant snapping in the breeze. But somewhere in that transaction, the fears had been adapted to fit his brain. He saw, in a flash, Van Helsing lying dead...  
  
He kissed him fiercely, not caring if he hurt Gabriel. He needed to feel that the Hunter was still there...  
  
"Now you tell _me_ what's wrong." Van Helsing insisted breathlessly when Carl at last pulled back.  
  
"Please... don't go out tonight. Don't fight." _Don't die_... Carl begged harshly. He had a surprisingly strong grip on Van Helsing's shoulders; it was a grip that would likely leave bruises later.  
  
"Carl, I have to." Van Helsing said gently. "I have to go out there."  
  
"No, no you don't!" Carl cried. "You have to stay! That's what you have to do, you have to stay!"  
  
"And why do I have to stay?"  
  
"Because I'm here. I don't want to be left alone." Van Helsing sensed the double meaning, but couldn't quite figure out what the Carl meant other than being left alone for the night.  
  
"I'm sorry, love, but I have too." He responded gently, prying Carl off him and standing. It was getting to late afternoon; he should start preparing, go out and ask around.  
  
"Then take me with you."  
  
"No!" Van Helsing shouted fearfully, whirling to meet the image of Carl's dead body. "No!"  
  
"Why can't I come? I can help!"  
  
"You could _die_!"  
  
"And so could you!"  
  
Silence fell. The two men stood there, staring into each other's eyes and trying to read their thoughts with no success. Their love was _too_ fierce now; it was blinding them.  
  
"This is why I shouldn't have fallen in love." Van Helsing whispered. "Especially us. Don't you see Carl? With the world we live in, we'll drive each other to madness with worry."  
  
"You didn't seem to have a problem with loving Anna." Carl sulked dangerously.  
  
"And God didn't seem to have a problem with taking her away." Van Helsing spat savagely. "He could do the same with you!"  
  
"And the same with you!" Carl launched to his feet. "You may say things like that because I'm the weaker one, but you are FAR from unbeatable, Gabriel. Don't think that there isn't a high chance of you not coming back one day!"  
  
"If you already know that, why are you throwing such a fit over it?" Gabriel snapped.  
  
_"BECAUSE I HAVE A FEELING THAT DAY MIGHT BE TODAY!"_ Carl screamed finally.  
  
Silence didn't fall over them this time, it crashed down and took them with it. Carl's whole body was shaking, unchecked tears spilling over his face. As he had done once, Van Helsing stepped close and began to wipe them away with the back of his hand. Soon his lips fell to the task, not noticing that Carl's body remained unresponsive throughout the act. He kissed him once; his lips were hot and wet, but did not move to meld against his.  
  
"Please stay." He whispered faintly, his eyes falling on Van Helsing but seeming to stare right through him.  
  
"I can't." _It hurts too much to be here... It hurts too much to love someone like this... _Gabriel began to back away. "Not just on a feeling that I might not return."  
  
"Do my feelings mean so little to you?" Carl asked darkly.  
  
"You know what I meant."  
  
"No, I don't know. _I don't know!_ I don't understand you because you won't let me!"  
  
"Why do you care so much about the death of something you don't even comprehend?" Van Helsing cried.  
  
"You know what? You're an arrogant, reckless, uncaring, foolish, senseless enigma! But for once you're right. I shouldn't care whether you come back or not!" He shouted.  
  
They kissed then. It was hard enough to bruise and draw blood. It was terribly passionate, too passionate, too consuming, too painful, too _much_. This was their love, barefaced, there for all to see. It was too much for either of them to contain. Gabriel jerked away from Carl, packed up his weapons, and left.  
  
Never, perhaps, to return.

* * *

Carl felt weak. Terribly weak. He stood there, among the wreckage of a world, and could say nothing for a long while. Van Helsing had taken away everything, absolutely everything, when he had left. At long last, as night settled its veil over the world, he found that the power of speech had been left to him. He titled his gaze to the ceiling. Was God still there...?  
  
"Well, I'm here again. I'm back at this doubting place where I'm afraid that Gabriel hates me and that we can never be together. I'm back again. Did you miss me?" His hollow whisper trailed off. "Are you happy now?" He screamed suddenly at the ceiling, not caring who heard him. He seized the nearby nightstand and flung it away from himself, reveling in the splintering sound it made when it struck the ground and the shattering of the glass vase. It was nice to know that he would not be the only thing broken by that terrible afternoon.  
  
Carl crept forward, fascinated by the water seeping onto the floor and out of the shattered glass. He knelt there, watching it.  
  
"Why don't I just leave? Why am I afraid to go after him, to make him see that he could be hurt...? Why am I afraid to be there to keep him from getting hurt...?"  
  
----  
_I'm so tired of being here  
Suppressed by all my  
Childish fears  
_----  
  
The water before him seemed to ripple; he could see Van Helsing's face.  
  
"You still haven't gone away, have you?" He sighed. "I thought you left to go get yourself killed, but you're still sulking around here. I don't think you can ever leave. You're too deep inside me...  
  
"I never thought I'd say this, but I wish that you would just go. You were right, you're destroying us both. Stop making me love you, Gabriel. Stop tormenting me..."  
  
----  
_And if you have to leave  
I wish that you would just leave  
Cuz your presence still lingers here  
And it won't leave me alone_  
----  
  
He rocked back on his heels, arms wrapped around his folded legs. His heart was hot and sick with pain. Van Helsing was SO good at making him feel that way, like his heart was slowly crumpling in on itself and spreading gushing waves of weakness through his system. Would he ever forgive him for saying what he did? For trying to hold him back? God, how he wished he could take the words he had said back... it was all true, but every single thing he had 'accused' him of had really just been every single thing about the Hunter that he loved....  
  
----  
_These wounds won't seem to heal  
This pain is just too real  
There's just too much that time cannot erase_  
----  
  
The water became like a pool of reflection for his mind, with images flitting across its surface all the time. He remembered when Van Helsing had first been found, bloody and defeated, on the steps of the Vatican. How everyone but he and Cardinal Jinette had thought that he was a bad omen, that he was sent by the Devil to bring down the Order and start the apocalypse. But he and Jinette had remained with him, nursing him back to health, befriending him eventually.  
  
_Long before you crept into my room to watch me sleep, I kept at bay your nightmares, Gabriel. Do you not remember? I have always been the one that stayed with you, the one who waited for you to come home. All along, I have been there, for as long as your memory extends._ _Or have you forgotten me too? Have you forgotten that I was the one who stopped you from destroying yourself long ago...?_  
  
----  
_When you cried I'd  
Wipe away all of your tears  
When you'd scream I'd  
Fight away all of your fears  
I held your hand  
Through all of these years  
But you still have all  
Of me...._  
----  
  
The images continued playing across the water like little ducks. Now Carl could see when he was just getting to know Van Helsing. He had just returned from his first mission, and was very calmly relating the whole of the adventure to the awe-struck Friar. He had been fascinated by the daring-do that was his everyday life, and how easily he talked about life or death situations. There was so much darkness, so much mystery cloaking Gabriel then, as there was now. But he was utterly captivated by that mystery because inside there was unsurpassed light, shining through.  
  
Why did it go away?  
  
It had not been there when Van Helsing had stormed out of the inn alone. The light was gone, and Carl was stuck there, looking for it. He wanted to do something, to scream, to laugh, to cry, but he couldn't. The whole of his life was in Gabriel's hands now. He was bound to him by something perhaps even stronger than love. If Van Helsing died out there that night, so would Carl. And he was bound not to know until it was too late.  
  
----  
_You used to captivate me  
By your resonating light  
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind_  
----  
  
"You're just everywhere, aren't you?" Carl whispered to the reflections in the water. "You're in my every waking thought, and you've wormed your way into my dreams. I've given up my soul so that I can love you and I've let you into my heart. And you know what you've done? You've driven me mad. And you do it as only you can.  
  
"Everything I said tonight? It was because of you. The sound of your voice... it scared me, because I was afraid I'd never hear it again. And you made me say those crazy things... If you die tonight, I don't know whose fault it will be."  
  
----  
_Your face it haunts  
My once pleasant dreams  
Your voice it chased away  
All the sanity in me  
_----  
  
The words, those crazy words, swelled up in him, cutting open his heart anew. He almost wanted to seize one of the splinters and cut his heart out of his chest, cup it in his hands and watch all his love bleed out of it. It was too much, God it was too much... Too much and too real... he couldn't take this alone....  
  
The only way for a wound to heal is to pull the sword out of it. But that's the hardest, most painful part. And Carl wanted to be in pain, if pain was what Van Helsing had given him. It may have been a hard, sharp piece of glass, but he'd cling to it, let it kill him. He envied all the monsters of the world then. There could be no better way to die than at Gabriel's hands...  
  
----  
_These wounds won't seem to heal  
This pain is just too real  
There's just too much that time cannot erase_  
----  
  
Where was he now, his Hunter? Was he already dead? Had he left him for good? Where did they go from there...? How could he pick up the pieces of a life when the central part was missing...?  
  
Their time together may have been short, but oh how it lingered with him. It felt like they had spent years together, years at each other's sides. It seemed that he had never had a nightmare without Van Helsing coming to quell it, and had never shed a tear without him kissing it away. He was so helplessly given over to that man, so utterly in love. He was so deep down in it, it pained him just to say the word.  
  
"Love." He whispered it over and over again, like a pagan chant, trying to bring Gabriel back to him. He decided that he liked pain.  
  
----  
_When you cried I'd  
Wipe away all of your tears  
When you'd scream I'd  
Fight away all of your fears  
I held you hand  
Through all of these years  
But you still have all  
Of me..._  
----  
  
He curled up on the bed; it still smelled of Gabriel. He breathed in the scent, wrapped it around himself and tried to hide in its evanescent coils. He tried to reason with himself; Gabriel was gone. Yes, he was gone. He needed to accept that. Then he needed to move on.  
  
"Move on to what? You have taken everything from me... You hold all of me in the palm of your hand.... I'll have nothing without you."  
  
But Gabriel was not yet gone. He could feel him in the air all around, haunting and omnipresent. He wouldn't leave. Maybe he couldn't...? Maybe, just as he 'owned' all of Carl, Carl 'owned' all of him. Maybe he couldn't move on with his life without him either...  
  
And then he remembered the look on his face before they had argued. He had never been able to really understand that man, who would show so little of his true self. How could he own something he had never been shown? And how could he grieve for something he never had?  
  
----  
_I tried so hard to tell myself  
That you're gone  
But though you're still with me  
I've been alone all along  
_----  
  
He tried to shake the image of Gabriel dying from his mind. With it, he was completely gone. With it, he knew that he had gone down in flaming glory, never to come back. With it, he knew he was nothing.  
  
"What's left of me to own...?"  
  
-----  
_All me...  
All me....  
All...._  
----

* * *

A/N-- I hope yall enjoyed my take on the song _My Immortal_. Every seems to think it's about death... but really, it reminds me of two people who love each other so terribly but they can't be together. Of course, it does work for death too. But I like this better. Please review and tell me what you thought of my take! 


	8. Whisper

A/N-- I'd just like to pause and say that I will never, ever, _ever_ do a story of this magnitude again. It's so emotionally draining to write... and I haven't been able to work on A Time for Chaos in days....

I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK THIS LONG! I went _dead_ on my Fanfics.... and I feel so bad! You must thank kydasam for her loverly slash stories, which inspired me to continue. So go on, thank her! Go read and review her fics!!! Here's M&M's for my reviewers (soon to become hers, riiiiight?):

**The Wishmasters**- Thank you! I hoped that you would!  
Hey, I'd be nowhere without you! I wouldn't have even had the courage if you hadn't kept prompting and inspiring me! So this fic might as well be yours!  
--glomps back--  
**Papilio**- I'm so sorry to have made you wait so long!  
Thank you so much for your review! Really... I'm flattered. I hope you enjoy this (long-awaited) update!  
**PineappleIce**- LOL, the way you said that reminds me of my cousin Roxy.... And hey, I'm not laughing at you! Your pineapple dance is quite loverly! (that's my word of the day. Isn't it prettyful?) And you'll see what happens to Gabriel....  
**Jade**- I made you cry? --hands tissue-- Maybe I should hand out tissues with this story instead of M&M's... Thanks for your reviews!  
**Ragweed**- -- Hands out more tissues-- C'mon people, my writing can't be _that_ bad.... surely not bad enough to make you cry.... (LOL) I hope you get working on your story soon! (aren't I one to talk?)  
**inga**- LOL! We all make mistakes, don't worry..... Thanks for the review!  
**kydasam**- (1st review) Nice to see you reviewing!! I'm in love with your story... without it, this one mighta died!  
(2nd review) I'm so glad to hear you say all of that! (really, even the strangling part) That's exactly what I wanted to make everyone feel with my writing.  
(3rd review) Everyone seems so captivated by the dolphin, but you're the first to catch onto the fact that the harpy also had blue eyes. very observant! You're also, perhaps, the most traumatized one yet.... this is really getting to you, isn't it?  
(4th review) I actually had a lot of fun with that whole 'Heaven in kiss, Hell in tears' thing. That was my 'theme' for the chapter (if you look, in some chapters, there's a phrase that I repeat and restate over and over again.) Don't we _all_ wish they could just _be_ together? But like you said, not likely. But hey, I love angst romance!  
(5th review) --hugs back-- You're welcome! That chapter was fun to write... and you had quoted just about all my favorite lines!  
(6th review) You crack me up!!! Really.... And I don't mind long reviews! puppy dog eyes

This chapter's song is 'Whisper' by Evanescence. Next chapter's song is 'Hello' by Evanescence.

* * *

Chapter Eight:  
Whisper

The night was cold and bitter, so befitting of the one man walking under its black expanse. Gabriel Van Helsing could not feel more at home with the night in those moments, even if he had been a vampire or a werewolf. He and the night were so alike at that time: frigid, bitter, and terribly empty from a terrible loneliness.

_Why? Why did I say those things to Carl?_ He begged to himself and to his companion, the night. They both knew they answer; that image, that terrifyingly haunting image of Carl dying that night had driven him into madness.

His breath turned into a silvery mist, as evanescent as his happiness, and dissipated in the air. The town was almost behind him; he was on its seedy fringes, passing pubs and brothels. Once, a drunken whore latched onto him and tried to sell her wares. She had hair that could not decide whether it was blonde or red, and blue eyes that might once have shone happily but were now dulled by alcohol. It was like a perverse image of a female Carl. _What led this woman down this path? Who betrayed her, sold her into this pit of misery? What if I drove Carl to this point? What if he's in some pub somewhere, drinking himself silly? He doesn't know his_ _way around a fight when he's sober, he could get killed! Maybe even worse! God knows that where our world is concerned, there's **always** worse._

He shoved the whore away, perhaps harder than he meant to. She collapsed on the ground, and began to whine and yell. While the words were lost on his ears, they were not lost on the ears of one inside the pub she had staggered out of; the world grew suddenly foggy and dim as the prostitute's shouted words had been. There was the vague sense that something had hit both the front and back of his head- the back before the front -and then the coldness of the slick ground. On instinct, Gabriel hauled himself to his feet and whirled, hand on his pistol. A scruffy, inebriated man had hit the back of his head, knocked him to the ground. He too had blue eyes.

_God, does the whole world suddenly have blue eyes just like Carl's? Or has my whole world suddenly become Carl so completely that I will see him everywhere now? _the thought disturbed him. If his gut feeling was right and he would somehow be responsible for Carl's death, then very soon he might have to let his whole world go. He would not last two minutes without the Friar if he kept seeing his eyes, those soulful, beautiful, sparkling blue eyes, on every face.

The man- maybe he was the prostitute's pimp -aimed a clumsy but powerful right hook at Gabriel's jaw. He could have so easily blocked it, but allowed the strike to connect and send him to the ground once more. He deserved to be beaten into the ground until it ran red with the blood of his heart for treating Carl the way he did. Was that the way to treat so sweet, innocent, and loving a world?

Instinct kicked in again. The man only got one more strike- a savage kick in the ribs -in before Van Helsing fought back. It only took one well-aimed punch into the man's face to knock him out cold, and then he was on his way again. Staggering through the streets, Van Helsing was clutching the place on his ribs where he had been kicked and squinting his eyes in pain. But he wasn't so sure the pain was there. It was more in his heart, really. No, it was all over. His whole body, his whole heart, his whole soul, ached for Carl. A sharp pain, born of this ache, lanced down his spine and he collapsed against the wall of a building, breathing harshly.

"Carl... What have we done to each other? In so short a time, have we destroyed each other this much?" He asked the night air. It proved to be a silent companion; there was no answer from it. His body responded to the question with a fresh wave of pain, centered directly on his lower back. That always happened when he was under too much stress. His lower back would seize up in the worst pains and spasms[1] and he would be forced to stop. He had nothing at hand to stop the pain, not even adrenaline. At hand, that is. He could always crawl back to the inn and hope to find Carl waiting....

But no- onward, Fate compelled him. Van Helsing realized suddenly that he didn't even know mentally where the nest of vampires was, but his feet seemed to have the most precise idea of where to go. He surrendered himself to it. He wished for Carl, begged mentally for him to come and force him to lie down, command God to cease this madness known as Fate. Van Helsing knew that Carl could do that. What is there that a whole world cannot do? But as he thought this, another thought struck him. A dreadful, morbid one: his feet would not lead him back to Carl that night. He would not be going back by that road.

----  
_Catch me  
As I fall  
Say you're here  
And it's all over now  
_----

He lost track of time, of everything, except for thoughts of Carl. Those clung to him like wet clothes; they fitted him well and snugly. But they were just the slightest bit uncomfortable; it is a terrible, unsettling pain to be thinking of something you know you can never have again. He knew it, too.

He knew a lot of things as his feet led him through the Transylvanian wilderness. He knew everything. He knew every emotion, every sensation, every laugh, every smile, every tear, and every word Carl had ever made him feel or say. And that, for him, was everything. Carl was everything. And, in that sense, he was happy that he was alone. Because if Carl had come, there was a chance of everything slipping away.

How profoundly their brief romance had changed him. Carl had to be the deadliest, stealthiest enemy Gabriel had faced yet. It had taken him only a few, soundless days to take over the whole world. Seeing this, Van Helsing realized that he could never truly be without Carl again, even if one of them was dead. He began to speak softly to the air around him- for that was Carl too. He begged forgiveness, declared love, murmured oaths, even laughing at some old jokes. But as he descended into the darkness of the underground lair he knew instinctively housed the vampires, he felt a sudden, crippling sickness in his gut.

Because he knew now... he was alone. Carl wasn't here, never would be. He had lost his mind, the world was no longer sane, no longer real. _Carl_ was no longer real.

----  
_Speaking to the atmosphere  
No one's here and I fall into myself...  
This truth drives me  
Into madness_  
----

Trembling, he stumbled through the darkness. He felt as thought he was about to fall apart. The dream was gone, Carl was _not_ all around him. All around him was loneliness. He had driven his beloved little Friar away, and now he was all alone. It was all his fault.

"Calm yourself, Gabriel." He whispered to himself, pausing. He ran a shaking hand through his mocha colored hair. As he did so, he managed to relax. It was a motion Carl often went through, a motion that rang of Carl's love. He didn't feel so lonely now. Some nice memories had come to stay a while with him. "I really _am_ losing my mind, aren't I?" He whispered sadly to himself. He took another deep breath and set off again. There was fire in his light, chestnut eyes. What was he thinking? Where was all this doomsday talk coming from? He was going to go in there, destroy those vampires, and then go back to Carl and beg forgiveness.

_Or not_. That nagging voice reminded him. He barely heard it in wake of the screams of the vampires.

He never stopped to count them. The Hunter burst out, and carried his thoughts away. One, a male, dove low over him. He threw himself onto the ground and drew both pistols, firing over his head as the vampire flew past him, trying to slow. The movement, normally fluid, felt odd to him. His whole body felt odd, twitchy. Like little spasms, invisible to the eye, were running through his muscles and jerking him every which way. It reminded him of what it had felt like to turn into a werewolf; that itchy, crawly feeling of tiny insects burrowing under your skin. This, however, didn't make him want to tear his skin off. It just made him want to curl up in a dark corner and let himself be overcome. Suddenly, things were slipping from his mind. His body still moved, still fought the vampires- he heard one die, not far away. But still his motions were jerky, rigid. Like he was trying to force his mind to remember motions that had once been second-nature.

Worse, he was starting to forget who he was. Why he was there. Whirling through the thick air, laced heavily with the scent of newly spilt blood, he allowed one of the vampires to knock him into a wall. Just as pain seared through his chest and back, a thought seared across his brain.

Love. He was loved.

He remembered then. He was Gabriel Van Helsing, Left Hand of God. He loved and was loved by a Friar named Carl.

That was, in fact, the worst part. Remembering. Because now he also knew, returning from that land of shadowy doubt, that he would forget again. He knew, as he came back, that he had indeed fallen. He felt it like a mark upon his skin: white-hot, burning for the whole world to see.

He was marked for death.

As the word death sounded through his head, three things happened. Another vampire, this one female, was killed by his silver bullets. She shrieked, writhed, and finally dissipated. One of her fellows screeched, although he couldn't tell from where. Sight went in and out for him, like he was forgetting how he was supposed to work his eyes. He didn't really need it anymore; an overwhelming instinct had taken vicious control of him. His body was wildly fighting against something, some foreign body that had slipped into his. He couldn't feel it, but it was there all the same.

The second thing to happen was a thought. Not a very important or large thought. Just a thought. A thought of him dying here tonight. It fled quickly; it was too afraid to stay.

The third thing to happen was another thought. This one was important, and very large. It was an epiphany, one that had beat in an endless refrain against his very soul all that night but seemed to new now. It was the thought of Carl dying.

It took every ounce of willpower he had to stop his body from seizing up in terror. God, it wasn't just him that was marked for death. This whole _night_ was. He struggled with another vampire, a second male who fought with a sword. Van Helsing's movements were less than perfect; his thrusts and parries and feints were choppy at best. It added a frantic quality to their deadly dance, and reminded one of a man fighting for his life. All the while, that image of Carl dying added further determination, further fear into it. He wouldn't let him die. He did know how this fight would decide the Friar's fate, but he knew that it would. Concentrating on it was almost too distracting; because of the cause he was fighting for, he was almost destroying it.

_If I can just stop thinking of that image and get through this fight, just one more fight, I can get back to Carl. I need to fight both them... and my own mind._

----  
_I know I can stop the pain  
If I will it all away  
If I will it all away_  
----

The vampire struck down, his sword a gleaming silver arc. Gabriel's caught it, an action that caused both weapons to ring and vibrate. Actions really were louder than words; but somewhere in the room, he could hear softly whispered ones, faint as drizzling raindrops, but consistent. A chant, almost. His opponent disengaged his sword and swung down to his right, as though he would chop him in half. Gabriel leapt to the left and brought his sword down to parry the other sword down towards his calf. His current enemy thus engaged, he drew his silver stake and thrust it towards the vampiress leaping in on his left. As it struck her, he activated it. Soon, there was nothing but dust beside him.

As their kind always did, the remaining vampires shrieked in mourning. But yet he could still hear that low, whispered voice. It was direct, insistent, almost like it was.... speaking to him?

He turned his head to look over his shoulder. There, in the back of the room, stood a vampiress and a male beside her. She was bent over an altar, her hands gripping the sides until the wood began to splinter. She was reading from a book....

He had no time for further thought. A sword smashing into one's temple will generally make all such creatures dash away in fright. Consciousness almost eloped with them, but eh clung fiercely to its trailing threads. He had fallen tot he ground, a steady trickle of blood falling likewise from his temple. A swift kick to the wrist disarmed him of his weapon, but he had more than one anyway. The remaining vampires were gathering to one side; a rather stupid idea, if he said so himself. But, since actions still speak louder than words, he let his Tojo blades do the talking.

Van Helsing rolled, the blades extended and chirring devilishly as they sliced through flesh and bone, taking both legs out from under three vampires. Before they could renew them, Van Helsing was on his feet and upon them again. Severed heads were not their specialty; all three perished.

And still the chanting.

He tried to listen to the words- what was it, Latin? -but that didn't turn out so well. Once more the creatures of the night were wailing for their fallen. It was a poignant touch, he thought, but one he couldn't fully appreciate since it only made it harder for him to kill them. It made him think that they might actually have loves and friends too. _But I must sacrifice them to see my love again...._

The chanting continued as he reengaged the swordsman with fury unquenched. Their blades rang and whined, almost buckling under the pressure of their strikes and blocks. The chanting grew more intense; once more, his body seemed to seize up and he lost track of his identity. Yet still he could not decipher it. In some ways, he was too afraid to.

The swordsman caught him in a lock, shoved him to the ground with the flat of his own blade against his neck. The vampire snarled with something akin to glee and raised his sword high above his head to cleave Gabriel's in half. Lightness flooded him, perhaps in preparation of his soul's departure, and with that lightness came memories. Carl, the whole of his world and his soul, dominated them all. All their times together flew by him; he supposed that was his life, flashing before his eyes, and ended in that image of Carl with a bloody hole in his chest. His blue eyes- God, those blue eyes.... -were still and lightless.

The light, rising sensation in him faded. Van Helsing blocked and shoved the vampire off him, reversing their positions.

He was _not_ going to give in.

----  
_Don't turn away  
(Don't give in to the pain)  
Don't try to hide  
(Though they're screaming your name)  
Don't close your eyes  
(God knows what lies behind them)  
Don't turn out the light  
(Never sleep, never die)  
_----

His sword cut an angry line of black from one side of the vampire's neck to the other. The creature burst into dust, wild disbelief in his eyes. At the very last instant, they turned to blue... and there was relief.

_I'm saving him!_ Van Helsing thought with wild joy. _Carl will be alright!_

He might be alright too, his mind continued eagerly. The vampires had stopped attacking.

But then it occurred to him. _The vampires had stopped attacking._

Van Helsing jumped swiftly to his feet, sword bouncing as lightly in his hand as he bounced on the balls of his feet, looking around. On the ceiling? No. To his left? No. To his right? No.

Then he heard the chanting, building once more.

They were straight in front of him.

Two vampires were on either side of the chanting vampiress, and one larger male stood behind her. He knew instantly that they were the ones who would kill Carl. They were the would-be murderers. He hefted his sword up, allowing it to rest just in front of his face, as he advanced. Something about them insisted that he approach them slowly; they frightened him.

The four vampire guards each raised a hand. Whether they were halting him or beckoning him, he didn't know. The gesture and their faces were hard to read. Whether he was obeying or disregarding them, he crept forward like one in a trance. He was a in a trance, dazed by fear. He didn't know what was happening, but he knew this wasn't over yet.

----  
_I'm frightened  
By what I see  
But somehow I know  
That there's much more to come_  
----

He quickly changed his mind about it not being over.

His crossbow was out, its bolts screaming across the room in a dazzling display of Carl's genius and Gabriel's fearsome prowess. Within seconds, it was almost over. Within seconds, all but the chanting vampiress were dead, even the large male vampire whom he had assumed to be the leader Jinette had warned him of. Gabriel thought that the Cardinal might have over-exaggerated him, and sent them on this mission thinking- or perhaps _knowing_ -that it would be the death of one of them.

It was getting rather irritating, his thoughts being cut off by screaming vampires. But somehow, there was an agony in the vampiress's scream that inexplicably reminded Gabriel of himself. Because even though she was torn apart by loss, she was still chanting through her scream. She was still fighting him, and for the ones she had loved, as he fought for Carl. Overcome, he allowed his crossbow to fall to the ground.

_Soon, I will cry too. Soon, I will either lose Carl... or myself._

----  
_Immobilized  
By my fear  
And soon to be  
Blinded by tears  
_----

Van Helsing drew his sword once more and began his advance anew. Both chanting and screaming had stopped; from a few feet away, the vampiress watched him with a mixture of hatred and triumph. She did not flinch as he drew within striking distance. Once more, he was reminded of himself, refusing to give in, fighting for those he loved. Willing to sacrifice everything for his safety, as she was willing to sacrifice everything for their vengeance.

"The spell is almost complete. Strike me and it _will_ happen." She warned with a snarl. She didn't need to tell him what 'it' was. He knew it without it being said. His body had already screamed it to him.

But still Gabriel paused, if just for a moment. Just one, sweet moment of thought. It hurt terribly to be so swept away, to have such a wild loss of control, to run on pure, thoughtless, bloodlusting instinct. But now he could think. There were thoughts of death.... and life. Two opposites, a duality both amazing and deadly. The ultimate mystery. He thought that when _the_ day arrived, _the_ day when he would stand on the very border of those two things, he would at last begin to understand their mystery. But he didn't now. And that was fine. He didn't need to understand.

He thought of life. Of letting her go free, and returning to Carl. The Friar would forgive him, comfort him for his defeat and help him find another way, even if there was none. Sweet, brilliant Carl. He would make another way, just for them. But then he saw that other way: he saw Carl lying dead.

_There is a balance to this crazy world after all._ He thought. _I live, he dies. I die..._

Gabriel Van Helsing never finished the thought. His heart knew it without it being said.

He would strike the balance.

He charged.

----  
_Fallen angels at my feet  
Whispered voices at my ear  
Death before my eyes  
Lying next to me I fear  
She beckons me- shall I give in?  
Upon my end shall I begin?  
Forsaking all I've fallen for  
I rise to meet the end..._  
----

* * *

A/N-- [1] No lie. Whenever I'm under a serious amount of stress, especially when I'm holding it in like Gabriel was, I can barely move because of the pain in my back.

I really trimmed down on that last section. To understand what I took out, why I left his thought off at 'I die...,' you really have to look at the last few lines of the song. I think I probably could have trimmed down more elsewhere; that whole chapter felt a teensy bit overdone. But I leave tomorrow and I really wanted to get this done for yall. Try not to kill me?

But where does it go from here...? That is the question. Hehe hehehe.... review and you may find out....


	9. Hello

A/N-- Considering my recent obsession with this song, I have been so eager to write this chapter. I hope it comes out right! M&M's to my reviewers:  
  
**PineappleIce**- I hope this was soon enough for you to not implode! You're a funny one... thanx for all your reviews!  
**Ragweed**- ROFLMAO. I must say that you took this the best! I love your story.... too bad I didn't have time to read it today. I'll r&r when I return from my trip!  
**kydasam**- You crack me up! I've never had someone quote me so extensively... And I'm glad you like my metaphors! I used to waaayyy overuse them, but apparently I've outgrown that stage now. I better see some CarlGabriel snugglies on your story soon! I feel so bad for what I do to them on here!  
**The Wishmasters**- I can't wait for your next installment! was screwing with my formatting this morning.... hence the lack of indentation on that last chappie. Actually, I thought that was one of my worst fight scenes. I was trying to concentrate on how surreal it felt for Gabriel, how it was sort of like an out-of-body experience, and I'm afraid it may have gotten a little vague at points. But I'm glad you enjoyed it!  
**Papilio()-** Thank you! You flatter me too much.  
  
This chapter's song is 'Hello' by Evanescence. Next chapter's song is 'Slipped Away' by Avril Lavigne.

* * *

Chapter Ten:  
Hello  
  
Carl awoke feeling dizzy and cold, like he had fallen into a raging river and then decided to go to sleep while being carried across several hundred waterfalls. In short, he was in no mental condition to face the world that morning.  
  
He had fallen asleep on the floor and fully clothed. It felt odd, after so many nights of being with Gabriel, to be waking up alone. Looking around sleepily, his normally sharp mind seemed to have difficulty registering everything around him.  
  
"Something feels odd." Carl murmured, standing on wobbly legs. Indeed, something about the morning felt rather... off. There was something strange about the air, about the faintest of sunbeams falling into the room. He couldn't get to the root of the problem, couldn't _quite_ point out what was wrong... but it was there.  
  
His first thought, upon going downstairs, was that it could've been the inn's food. One look at it easily had his stomach cowering in a corner, praying that it wouldn't have to digest such punishment for being so wretchedly hungry. Carl then went on to wonder if all the world's food had been poisoned and that was what was wrong with it. His mind continued with the train of thought for several more stops, trying to puzzle out how this could have happened. He was on the verge of a breakthrough when he remembered that he should have done his morning devotions.  
  
_In love with a man or not, _He reminded himself. _I still owe something to the God that put me here.Cannot I be devoted to both him and his left hand?_  
  
Carl assumed the best pose of prayer as he could manage by kneeling on the barstool, putting his elbows on the counter, folding his hands, and closing his eyes. Normally it was easiest to pray in the morning. The world had yet to awaken, so all was quiet, and the glory of the sunrise made him feel closer to the glory of God. But this morning, the words of his prayer, however mechanical, would not come. The world didn't feel like it had just begun to stir; it felt weary, like it had stayed up all night standing some pained deathwatch.  
  
_I shall have to tell Gabriel about the food poisoning...._  
  
He opened his eyes. Something was definitely wrong. The world felt... hollow, sort of. Like it was sick from sorrow. He could feel that sorrow, all around him. The whole world was mourning for something. And every time he said or thought Gabriel's name, it seemed that much keener.  
  
Shaken, Carl got up and left the inn. He had seen a small bistro just down the street from the local church and school. He would eat there.  
  
Everyone was very quiet as he passed through their ranks, following the tolling church bells. The silence made their clanging all the more eerie, even though it should have reminded him of the holy ground he was approaching and how that clanging would keep at bay the pagans and the demons. Even when his course drew up past it, he didn't feel safe. Somehow those metal bells made him angry, as though they had betrayed him but he could not speak out against them.  
A small wrought iron fence contained the courtyard of the church, where children were outside playing. It was a Wednesday, the thick of the week, and they were likely about to go to school. He paused to watch them as the school teacher came out, ringing her small hand bell to call them inside. That tiny bell was the antithesis to the church bells overhead; while the church bells represented feigned innocence and hidden betrayal, the tiny bell was the embodiment of pure open sorrow.  
  
_But the children don't know that. _Carl thought, a little sadly, as he watched them scamper inside. Or did they? Even they seemed sad too. But why?  
  
-  
_Playground school bell rings  
Again  
_-  
  
The Friar continued on slowly, rubbing his temples.  
  
"God, why did you pick me to be insane?" He whined softly. "It doesn't work wonders for my physical condition. You'd think that insanity would constitute a lack of brains, yet my head pounds as though there is too much up there. Too much to think about. I feel so strange..." The second he realized that he was talking to himself, Carl shut his mouth and looked nervously around. But the streets were empty, he was all alone. And then he realized it.  
  
He was all alone.  
  
Gabriel had not come home that night.  
  
His pace quickened until it doubled and he was practically running for the bistro where he hoped a non-poisoned breakfast awaited him. Gabriel had not come home last night. Where was he?  
  
"It's probably just taking longer than he expected. Or maybe he was too tired to come back to the inn. Maybe he just spent the night outside. In Transylvania? He's just crazy enough to do it. I told him so myself. And I'm crazy enough to stand here talking while the nice sane people inside stare at me like I'm crazy. Which I am." His small rant finished, Carl took a deep breath and opened the glass door to the bistro.  
  
He was greeted with the scent of brewing coffee and baking bread and the queer looks of the bistro's patrons. Not that it was much of a greeting, anyway. It was more like a forced, hostile acknowledgment of his presence. He blew off all but the scents and went to the counter, ordering a croissant and a mug of coffee, all the while hoping that his theories about food poisoning were incorrect.  
  
"Thank you." He managed a smile as he accepted the food and paid. The owner did not respond, but turned his sad gaze on the next customer. Carl felt somehow embarrassed; he was the only one in the whole establishment who had smiled all morning. He ducked his head and exited quickly.  
  
If possible, it seemed even colder and darker than before. The church bells had stopped ringing, but somewhere in the distance the cloudy sky was gurgling. The sound was low and faint, an ominous overture of a storm. Carl continued his idle walk around the town, nursing his coffee and nibbling on his bread. All the while he carefully checked the alleyways he passed, half-hoping to see Van Helsing bursting out at any moment, trying to scare him.  
  
There was no one.  
  
That is, there was no one until he reached the very fringes of the city.  
  
Then the mournful silence was broken by peals of laughter, garish in the grey morning. Carl felt angry upon hearing them. He didn't know why the world had gone into mourning, but if even the schoolchildren had sensed it than everyone else should have, and the men up ahead who were laughing were disrespecting that feeling. He quickened his pace, finishing off his croissant and setting the cup of coffee down. His heart sank to the ground with it when he noticed what the men were holding.  
  
An automatic crossbow.  
  
"You did a good thing by falling into that hole!"  
  
"No, his _horse_ did a good thing!"  
  
"Who cares if it was so injured we had to shoot it? Imagine the _herd_ we can buy with the profits of this!"  
  
"Don't forget the bounty!"  
  
"Where did you get that?" Carl asked, his voice hoarse with anger and fear as he ran up to them. The three men, none older than thirty, turned to him.  
  
"Why does it matter to you?" asked the one holding the crossbow in a suspicious voice.  
  
"Give that to me." Carl demanded. "_Give_ it to me."  
  
"No. I lamed my horse finding this, we had to kill it! Do you know what kind of a horse it was? Pure Transylvanian! It will cost me a fortune to buy and train another just as good as it was! I need this-" The man's sentence was cut off by a gasp when Carl seized the crossbow, braced it against his shoulder, and readied to fire it.  
  
"I _said_: show me where you found this." He snarled.  
  
With an obviously furious Friar holding an automatic crossbow at their backs, they were all too happy to lead him to the place.  
  
All the hollowness of the world centered over that hole in the ground. Vaguely, Carl prayed that the world was morning for the horse that had died, but he knew his hope was misplaced. In his heart he knew what he would find, descending into that hellhole. Soon its dark halls cut off the sky, but he knew instinctively that it had started to rain.  
  
-  
_Rain clouds come to play  
Again_  
-  
  
Finally he arrived at what he also knew was the place. _The_ place. It deserved a name better than that, to have brought the world to its knees in anguish, but none would come.  
  
It wasn't very special. Just a cave the vampires had hollowed out for their nest, lined with torches that had recently been relit. There were maybe eight, ten piles of dust lying helter skelter all around the room, but no living creatures of the night. Living or dying, whichever way you wanted to put it. Carl felt like saying dying, but the word was too hard to get around. But even that word was seconded to the one that came out of his lips next.  
  
"Gab-riel...." The word was torn from his suddenly dry throat and drawn out like a note of some long-forgotten lament. There lay Van Helsing, curled up in a pile of wood. It looked as though a desk or other large wooden object had been shattered by a lightning bolt and had taken Gabriel down with it too; some of the larger pieces had pierced his skin and little rivulets of blood ran in slow, ashamed, trails of red away from his body. But other than that, there was no wound visible to them.  
  
The crossbow fell to the ground, but neither of the three men moved to retrieve it. They were too mesmerized by the small Friar falling to his knees beside it, his whole body trembling. Gradually, Carl fell forward onto his hands too, until he began to crawl towards the fallen Hunter.  
  
"Gabriel...." He whispered. "You didn't come back.... but I'm here... I'll come to you..." His whole body was convulsing by the time he finally reached Van Helsing, shaking with repressed sobs. Sobs too painful to be cried, but too needed to be ignored. He dropped his head to the Hunter's chest and rested there, reveling in the feel of the strong, muscled plane. He imagined there was warmth there.... Alive? Was he still alive?  
  
"I must take him back to the Vatican." He whispered, to who he wasn't sure.  
  
"Why?" The second man said.  
  
"The dead should be left as they are." The third added gravely.  
  
"Dead...?" Carl whispered faintly. He hadn't thought of that. He was physically incapable of thinking Gabriel dead, even after all he had said to him the previous night. He couldn't be. _He couldn't be dead...!_  
  
-  
_Has no one told you?  
He's not breathing.  
_-  
  
"We'd leave him here to rot, but the bounty's far too high to do so." The first said.  
  
"You ignorant bastards!" Carl screamed, jumping to his feet. "Who do you think killed Dracula? Who destroyed this nest before they could rise to his level of power? Who comes here time and time again, dropping his life to save all yours?" They were silent.  
  
"We do not trust the dead. Even when they're left to rot underground." One of the men said sullenly.  
  
"You can't leave him here to rot..." Carl murmured, his voice growing with morbid excitement. He pressed his head to Van Helsing's chest again. "Because he's not even dead yet...!" The Friar was on the verge of leaping to his feet and dancing with joy. There it was, a faint, subtle heartbeat. Gabriel wasn't dead! But he wasn't well off either. "Please, if you have any gratitude to Mr. Van Helsing, go back to the village and get a doctor! No! I'll bandage him myself. You must get someone with a cart who can take us to the nearest port!" He cried urgently. The men shared glances, but nodded reluctantly when they noticed that the crossbow was still sitting near to the Friar and the man didn't really have a sane gleam in his eyes.  
  
Carl sat beside Gabriel the whole time while they were waiting, bandaging the wounds he could find. Mostly they were minor; a cut here, a bruise there, nothing like this. He did have a nasty gash on his temple, but not one that he thought could kill a man. And that was what worried him.  
  
Where was the wound?  
  
If there was none, why did his lover not stir when his name was called? When his lips were kissed?  
  
Why?  
  
In the days it took to get back to Rome, he would be left with nothing but that word. Why. Why didn't he wake up? Why had he left him? Why? Why? Why? All he had was his mind, whispering that word over and over again, trying to comfort him but having forgotten what comfort was.  
  
-  
_Hello,  
I'm your mind  
__Giving you someone to talk to  
Hello...?_  
-  
  
Coming home to the Vatican was not what he had expected.  
  
Having not really wanted to leave in the first place, Carl had expected it to be a relief. It wasn't. Because with the relief of coming home (though it was not sweet, but anguished) was warped by the coming true of his greatest nightmare. He had always known that one day Van Helsing would be carried into the Vatican, for once not walking tall and proud, but he had never even thought that he would be the one to carry him in. It was torment of the worst and deepest kind.

* * *

Cardinal Jinette woke early that day. Something felt amiss, even when he prayed. He tried in vain to shake it off, eventually settling for burying it deep inside where his underlings would not see. _Never let them see you panic,_ He reminded himself. _Never._ There were times when he heavily regretted being a leader, having to keep all those emotions inside. But this day he was glad of his self-control.  
  
Around noon, as was his custom, he went up to the confessional. He wasn't expecting Carl and Van Helsing back yet, but he was nonetheless looking for them with an odd mixture of hope and dread. The hope he could understand; he cared about those two in a rough, sort of paternal way. But the dread? Though he asked God many times for explanation, none fit.  
  
None, of course, except death.  
  
Feeling severely jaded by his worries, he was nearly asleep when the first confessor in an hour arrived.  
  
"Bless me f-father.... I have sinned..." The voice was shaky, terrified. Had some great sin taken place? He sat up quickly and composed himself, prepared to devote all his attention to the parishioner. But as he came back to his senses, he was struck with the sound of the voice. He knew that voice.  
  
"Carl! Back so-" Jinette froze as the grate slid open, his aged face turning a sickly shade of grey with shock.  
  
Carl was there, yes. But had had not heard his voice he would not have known that. He hadn't ate, slept, bathed, or shaved in what looked like days. His eyes were puffy and dark on the outside, dull and lifeless within. His hair was scraggly and uncombed, and his face was smudged with dirt and the dried trails of tears. A beard ghosted his face, making the normally youthful Friar look twice his age. And in his lap lay Death itself.  
  
Gabriel Van Helsing's skin, normally healthy and bright, was drawn and pale as a death's-head. His eyes were closed, and did not rove as the eyes of the sleeping do. However, his face was carefully washed and his hair combed; Carl had obviously taken very good care of him. Other than his slight tremors- probably born of Carl's -he didn't seem to be moving much.  
  
"Sweet God above! What happened Carl?" Jinette cried, leaping to his feet and flinging open the door.  
  
"Help him...?" Carl said feebly, a single tear sliding from his blue eyes, before he followed its path and slid to the floor, in the iron grip of unconsciousness.

* * *

Carl proved himself to be a fighter. He broke free from his unconscious state an hour after he entered into it, and didn't even say anything to the worried monks trying to coax some food into his mouth. The only thing that would pass his lips was one word: Gabriel.  
  
"Gabriel." He said hoarsely as he vaulted onto his feet, bare seconds after he had woken. His knees hit the floor not long after his feet touched it, and he fell onto his hands just to support his weight, however meager it was.  
  
"Friar Carl, you must-"  
  
"Gabriel." He said seriously, jerking himself to his feet. He trembled visibly and his steps were rigid, but he would not be swayed from his course. He began to limp out of the room.  
  
"Where are you going?" cried the monk who had been trying to feed him.  
  
"Gabriel." Carl said insistently, making it out into the hall. Once he was there, he turned back around to the befuddled monks. "Gabriel?" He questioned urgently. Still confused, they pointed to the left. Without further ado, Carl began to sprint off down the left passage.  
  
He stumbled as he ran, crashing into the floor and into walls several times, but he never once stopped. He pushed everyone out of his way, except at forks where he would frantically call Gabriel's name and point down the different passages. When at last he saw the medically trained monks, he put every ounce of his willpower into running. There was the door that they buzzed in and out of, there was the door to the hive of his king. There was the door to Gabriel.  
  
"Gabriel." He whispered over and over again as it drew closer and closer. His hands reached out to open it.... and were smacked back when the door was flung open on its own. The force also through his weak and weary body to the floor, where he struggled to get up from.  
  
"It's Friar Carl!" "I thought he was asleep...."  
  
"Come now Carl, let's get you back to-"  
  
_"Gabriel!"_ He screamed as they took gentle hold of his arms and helped him up. His thanks for the help came in the form of two surprisingly solid punches into the faces of the two church guards and another scream of Van Helsing's first name.  
  
"Quick! Take hold of him!" One of the still-standing guards cried. They were about to when Jinette materialized.  
  
"Let him in! Van Helsing stirred at the sound of his name!" He cried hoarsely. Most unceremoniously, he pushed his way through the gathering crowd and took hold of Carl, who suddenly looked like a little child without its mother: lost, lonely, afraid. He practically shoved him into the room.  
  
It was a simple room, sparse as all the rooms of the infirmary were. But it lit him up with joy nonetheless, for a wakened Hunter decorated its bed.  
  
"Gabriel." He whispered, relieved, as he stood by the bed. His reward was a sleepy murmur from Van Helsing and a caress on the cheek.  
  
Nothing could have made him feel richer.... and nothing could have made him feel poorer.  
Van Helsing froze, mid-caress, as another tear from Carl traced a wet path down his hand. His eyes glazed over and his hand fell to the bed, limp as a boned fish. [1] He went entirely slack and still. No. God no. He couldn't be dead. He couldn't be. Why hadn't the world ended...? But then he stirred, sitting up with a vicious cough, like he was forcing breath in and out of his lungs. His hand choked at his throat. He was at once trying to save and kill himself, and the attempt didn't go over well. Carl cried quietly and tried to still Van Helsing's hands before he hurt himself, but he could do nothing until the Hunter stopped on his own.  
  
When at last he was moderately still, his breaths were deep, but choppy. It was a wet, sickening sound. Maybe he had been internally injured? Some unseen wound in his lungs? Could he tell them?  
  
"Van Helsing, what happened to you?" Carl whispered, reaching for a rag on the bedside and soaking it in the basin that had been provided, cleaning the Hunter's head of sweat.  
  
In instants, he had fallen to the floor, his breath even more labored than Gabriel's had been. He had just wiped Gabriel's own blood all over his forehead. He tried to scramble back, crablike, but his foot struck the nightstand hard enough to topple it. The clay basin shattered, spilling Van Helsing's blood all over Carl's legs. The Friar choked back a sob, ignoring whatever the Cardinal was shouting in favor of racing back to Gabriel's side. He was trying to say something.  
  
"I am-" But his phrase was suddenly, violently cut off, like a thunderbolt had seared it in half without warning. Carl's hand had lightly touched his, he had moved his face closer in an effort to hear better. Yet Van Helsing seemed not at all comforted by this... his gaze was hostile, afraid. He jerked his hand away, watching Carl with the wild fear of a cornered animal. _Who are you? _His eyes screamed accusingly at the Friar.  
  
"It's me. Me." Carl assured him, running his hands over Van Helsing's forehead and into his hair, a motion he had repeated often on his lover when he had been asleep. But it only seemed to frighten him more.  
  
"No." He cried hoarsely, making a feeble shoving motion that still shattered Carl's fragile world. Once more he was on the floor, shaking. His hands could not support him, and he slid onto his back. Why was the floor so slick, again? He raised his hands to his face and realized why.  
Gabriel's blood was on his hands. This was all his fault.  
  
He stumbled out into the hall and retched until he coughed up blood. It was his punishment.  
But afterwards, he felt oddly calm. Now he knew what was going on. He wasn't mad with the fear of not knowing what had happened to Gabriel. He knew something was wrong, but he knew that he was still alive. Knowing something was wrong he could handle. It was not knowing that drove his scruples into madness.  
  
He got himself to his room, cleaned himself up, ate a light meal, and then headed back to the infirmary. A knot of the Order's people had gathered there, small compared to the knots in his stomach. Carl felt oddly distanced from the world, and was shaky because of it. He wiped his sweaty palms on his wobbling thighs, then plunged into the sea of humanity.  
  
He went straight up to a pair of younger men, who quickly turned their attention to them.  
  
"Excuse me, but could you show me where I might find my aides? I must start research right away." He asked as politely and calmly as he could. The two men glanced nervously at each other, before the older, black-haired one spoke.  
  
"Friar Carl? We are your aides." He said timidly.  
  
"Oh." Carl intoned slowly, his brow furrowing in thought. Yes. This was them. Thomas and Matthias. "Good then. I already have a sample of Mr. Van Helsing's blood, we'll analyze that first. Off we go." He set off a surprisingly jaunty pace, leaving his bewildered aides to follow.  
  
They spent the next hours in Carl's lab, analyzing and theorizing and generally working their brains to the limit. two things proved bizarrely interesting; for starters, his blood was rather odd. When a foreign agent was added, the white blood cells did nothing. Sometimes, they would attack each other, or go to the foreign agent but seem confused as to what they were supposed to do about it. After this, Carl wondered if Van Helsing had suffered mental trauma; there had been that incident when he had been at a loss as to who Carl was, yet moments earlier he had recognized the sound of his own name. He feared going back in himself, so he sent Matthias to go interview the Hunter while Thomas scurried off to get some books.  
  
Thomas returned first, and Carl was ankle-deep in books about psychology, head trauma and mental illnesses- including amnesia -when Matthias returned.  
  
"Well? Does amnesia fit the bill?" Carl demanded mildly.  
  
"If it is, then it is the oddest sort of amnesia I have ever heard of." The blonde murmured. "I sat beside him. He was awake, but did not face me. I called his name, first and last and then both separate, but he did not acknowledge them as his. I tried several other names: places and people he knew of. When he saw how insistent I was, he turned to look at me, but seemed confused. "I asked him a few basic questions, none of which he could answer. But suddenly, his face lit up with worry and he seized my shoulders. He begged me to bring you to him, and I told him that you couldn't be had, you were trying to figure out what was wrong with him. He sat back very slowly, frowning, and said 'Why is someone I don't know trying to help me?' After that, he turned away from me and didn't respond to anything else I said or did." Carl sank down in a nearby chair, massaging his temple with his fingers.  
  
"We'll figure it out, don't worry. He will live." Thomas assured him from across the room.  
  
Matthias nodded emphatically. Carl merely smiled at them, then dropped his head back into his hands. He hadn't slept for days.  
  
-  
_If I smile and don't  
Believe  
Soon I know I'll wake from this dream_  
-  
  
He wouldn't sleep for two more days. Those days were spent in the lab with Thomas and Matthias, researching and wondering and sometimes just mentally screaming in frustration. At last, he sent his young aides away to have some rest while he continued on alone. They had poured over every book that could be found, even ones that had only the vaguest relation to Van Helsing's 'condition,' hoping to find the tiniest crumb of a clue. A cake might have been nice, in more ways than one, but they would settle for just a crumb.  
  
Carl was at his wit's end. He scratched that thought with disinterest. His wits were entirely gone, in fact. He had sent them away. What use were they if they could not figure out what was wrong with Gabriel...? He wanted to throw all the books away too. None of them had helped. At best, they had provided false hope. But, sighing, he reached for a new one and began to pour over it. With so much at stake, he would cling to whatever hope he was given.  
  
He hadn't even known he was asleep until he awoke; that is the way of things when you are so tired. It was Thomas who had awoken him, Thomas and his steaming plate of food.  
  
"How long?" Carl asked inarticulately as he began to nibble on the food.  
  
"Just the night, Brother."  
  
"Did you research?"  
  
"Not without you. We wanted to... ask your permission on something. It's a bit of a theory, actually." He began to fidget nervously.  
  
"Well?" Carl sighed, taking a deep swig of the red wine he had been given.  
  
"You said he had gone to fight a nest of vampires, to stop one in particular from rising to power. Couldn't one infer that magic was involved?" He left the sentence hanging.  
  
Carl stopped eating, setting his plate on the floor. He dabbed lightly at the corners of his mouth with the provided napkin, then used it to wipe his face clean of sleep. When he met Thomas's eyes again, it was with a mild and unreadable look.  
  
"You are suggesting that we research spells?" He asked softly.  
  
"Yes, Brother." Thomas said, wavering.  
  
"Don't even suggest that." Carl's voice was the barest of centimeters from a snarl. "If it is magic, then we have no hope left now."  
  
"But Friar Carl, maybe-"  
  
"Don't bother me with that word." Carl snapped, standing up from the chair and beginning to storm out.  
  
"You have nothing if you don't have hope." The aide ventured to say. Carl paused, turned. Immeasurable sadness filled his eyes. There was something graceful about it, something that was... beautiful. Because, like most all beautiful, graceful things, it was born of a deep and passionate love.  
  
"Then I am nothing. And how can you fix something that is nonexistent?" He whispered, before he left. Thomas didn't know what to do from there. When the Friar had left the room, all beauty and grace had left with him.  
  
-  
_Don't try to fix me,  
I'm not broken._  
-  
  
"I need to get away from this madness..." Carl murmured, wandering the Order's catacombs.  
  
His only aim was to avoid the infirmary. With only so many places to go- for the place was rich in memories of Gabriel -he soon wound up at the library. "A little reading would do me well. And didn't Gabriel say he'd meet me here later, when he's done in the infirmary?" Carl said to himself, concocting the lie without thinking about it. He smiled, stepped inside.  
  
He needed the lie.

* * *

Cardinal Jinette walked briskly through the halls of the headquarters, stopping everyone he saw and asking for news of Carl. Van Helsing had awoken again, and was begging to see him. They had tried, quite fruitlessly, to ask him about what had happened, but he would say nothing other than words about Carl. He seemed so stricken with desperation to see him, that it might kill him at any moment. So the Cardinal had set off himself to find the Friar and bring him back with him.  
At last one of his aides mentioned something about Carl leaving, heavily depressed. Jinette thought for a moment on what he knew about the man. What would comfort him best, beside his friend Gabriel? Books. He was a bookish man. So he set off for the library.  
  
Surely enough, there he was, curled up in an armchair with a single, heavy tome on his lap. He did not look up as Jinette entered the room.  
  
"Researching, Friar Carl?" the Cardinal asked quietly.  
  
"Hmm? Oh, no." Carl grinned, looking up.. "Just some light reading about physics and psychology. Gabriel said he'd meet me here. I have to worst dream to tell him about...."  
  
"Carl... I think you need to come see Gabriel. He wants you to come to him." Jinette said softly, gently, his hand on the Friar's shoulder.  
  
"Oh... Oh. Very well then." His smile and movements were shaken, though he tried to hide it, as he set down the book. They both knew that his facade was fading quickly.  
  
They both knew silence would reign as they walked to Van Helsing's room. They both knew that they would pause just a foot from the door, being careful not to look at each other, and compose themselves against tears when they saw their Hunter so wretchedly low. They both knew that they would hold their heads high and push open the door bravely. They both knew that when they closed behind them, all the pretty little lies would go away.  
  
It was so hard not to cry.  
  
-  
_Hello,  
I'm the lie  
Living for you so you can hide  
Don't cry...._  
-  
Jinette stayed to the back of the room. Emotion was thick in the room, anything but Spartan in contrast to the decorations. Carl shuffled forward, his eyes fixed on Van Helsing where he lay on the bed. But his reluctance didn't last for long; his pace quickened drastically when he got closer and he sank to his knees in something like worship. Not caring that the Cardinal was watching, he reached up to gently touch Van Helsing's cheek.  
  
The Hunter turned his head slowly; it took him a moment to recognize who it was. But then he reached up to barely grace Carl's hand with the touch of his own, something like apology in his eyes.  
  
"Hello Gabriel." A smile ghosted Carl's lips.  
  
"Carl.... I was-" He tried to say something else, but the words wouldn't come.  
  
"You don't have to say anything... please, don't say anything..." Carl whispered, taking Van Helsing's hand and kissing it, Cardinal Jinette be damned. The whole world be damned, in fact, if it continued to go on when Gabriel was dead.  
  
He couldn't bring himself to say 'if.' Hope was too deadly a thing to toy with.  
  
Van Helsing smiled a phantom smile, but shook his head and continued trying to speak. It came out in the form of a hacking cough. Blood rushed up and gave color to the 'words' and the pale sheets of his bed. His whole body was convulsing uncontrollably; he clutched at his throat, trying to make the coughing stop, but couldn't. Carl staggered back, the tears he had sworn he wouldn't shed burning down his face.  
  
Cardinal Jinette whisked him away and sat him down outside, but Carl hardly noticed. He sat there, listening numbly to the hustle and bustle. After awhile, it died down, and they forgot him there.  
  
He was alone all that night.  
  
-  
_Suddenly I know I'm not sleeping  
Hello...?  
I'm still here  
All that's left of yesterday..._  
-

* * *

A/N-- [1] GO RETURN OF THE KING!!! Of course, I can no longer take that movie seriously... because every time I see Faramir.... Carl pops into my mind.  
Obviously, I had to edit the lyrics in one point. Anyone familiar with the song knows where. hehehe, I'm having so much fun with all this depressing stuff... maw ha ha ha ha.... But the next chapter will be my favorite yet, since it's based off of one of my all-time favorite songs. Review and I get the joy of writing/posting it! I'm sorry this one took os long.... I worked my ass off on thursday night and got it finished only to realize that Fanfiction WAS DOWN so I had to wait until today to post it. My apologies!


	10. Slipped Away

A/N-- YAY! Favorite chapter, favorite chapter la la la la la! dances Well, that and I GOT BOOTS!!!!!!! MY FIRST EVER PAIR OF BOOTS! dances in new pair of boots Double the usual M&M's to all my reviewers on this glorious day:  
  
**The Wishmasters**- As usual, your well-worded review made me very happy and your story was an inspiration! Hope you enjoy this next installation! (Sorry, listening to musicals makes me rhyme all the time)  
**Papilio**- Rereading your review, I feel sorry it took so long! _curls up all guilty like in a corner_ But good things take time, yes?  
**Ragweed**-.......ROFLMAO!!! Dude, stay up till four more often!! You're one funny chick!  
If finding out Carl and Faramir are the same person, this should floor you: (hey, when i found out this juicy fact I nearly fell off the rafters of the cabin!!) David Wenham is also in Moulin Rouge. He plays Audrey, the bisexual writer with really shiny black hair from the beginning of the movie.  
**Anastasia Andretti**-Van Helsing-....wow. That review was.... overwhelming...... But I loved it, and your name! Thanks!  
**kydasam**- Wow, usually my writing doesn't make people cry... I'm gaining on my friend for that title of 'my-writing-makes-people-cry!' .....I dunno about the fluffles and snugglies.... I tried to put some in at the beginning for you, but they weren't really fluffy. I'm sorry...! And you'll see how it ends.  
**PineappleIce**- You certainly are a funny one! And the image of Carl holding the crossbow was kinda supposed to be 'WOA! I better get outta the way!' and 'ROFLMAO!' at the same time. Thanks for your review!  
**Jess**- DUDE!!! HE WAS AT THE COMIC CON?!?! OMG!!! I wish I could've gone.  
Van Helsing spoiled it for me. I can't ever look at Faramir the same... Thanx for the review! I tried very hard to make sure the songs didn't overtake the writing. They were meant to be more accents.  
**Trinity Infinity**- No worries! I've been sooo behind on my reviewing... but that's because of high school, which is a synonym for lots of homework and lack of inspiration. I am soo sorry! I will try and get over to your fic as soon as I can! Just don't be expecting me.  
Yes, I thirteen. Turning fourteen on October 15th of this year! You're almost twice my age?! --shakes head-- I have such a hard time believing that. I dunno why... I just kinda thought everybody here were teenagers (I know that's somehow grammatically incorrect, just don't know how...) somehow... I tried to proof read a bit this time, hope it worked better. I just don't have the attention span to read my own writing... it's too long. Hence the reason I write in spurts.  
How long does it take to write a chapter of that length? --thinks a moment-- well, that particular chapter took five days. The longest its ever taken me to write a chapter on this fic (and this fic holds my record for takes-the-longest-to-write. It's really a challenge and it takes so much out of me... I'm basically throwing all my emotions in there, which is exhausting) is this chapter, which took over a month. Four or five days is about the average for this fic, at a glance.  
(second review)  
In one sitting?! Chica, _I _could not read my _own_ story in one sitting..... That makes me appreciate you all the more, though!! It was your review and **kydasam's** updates that really got me working on this again. Hopefully I will update more often now, and thanks for the boost!  
  
Okay, actually, this is being written llllllllllllloooooooooonnnnnnnnnnggggggg after the day I got my boots..... once more, **kydasam** half guilt-tripped and half inspired me into finishing this. If you haven't already read em, her stories come _highly_ recommended from me... Also, thanks to **Trinity Infinity** for giving me the nudge needed to get this rocking and rolling again.  
  
This chapter's song is 'Slipped Away' by Avril Lavigne. Next chapter's song is 'Tourniquet' by Evanescence.

* * *

Chapter Ten:  
Slipped Away  
  
------  
_Na na  
Na na na na na  
_------  
His kisses were slow, soft, warm. Gabriel was kissing his chest then, in his slow, soft, warm way. There was something dreamlike about the wet touch; something so perfect about it that it couldn't be real. But who was Carl to complain? With a gentle mewl, he tangled his hands in Gabriel's soft, dark locks, tugging ever so slightly at it when the Hunter's mouth hit a sweet spot.  
  
"Stop that!" Van Helsing chuckled, sitting up to bat Carl's hands away.  
  
"I can't help it." Carl barely breathed out, his hands moving to clench reflexively on Van Helsing's shoulders.  
  
"I don't need a massage, Carl." He continued to laugh, shaking the Friar's hands off again.  
  
"You're too good at this." He moaned back, balling his hand and half-heartedly giving Van Helsing a pound on the back. The Hunter just laughed again- God, how he loved that sound.... -and bent, kissing Carl full on the lips.  
  
Both their bodies knew without asking what they wanted. Their mouths opened at the same time, their tongues automatically going to the place they knew was the sweetness. It was all sweetness this night. All sweetness as Gabriel broke off the kiss and ran a line of kisses along the creamy skin of Carl's collarbone, licking the little hollow just under his throat. All sweetness as Carl wrapped himself around Van Helsing and buried his face in his hair, combing it out gently now. So sweet, the taste of the other man's skin as he kissed the tiny spot just behind his ear....

* * *

The air by the sea was chilly, nibbling inquisitively at the Friar's skin. Night would come soon, but a whisper of heat from the sun remained on his face. It's accompaniment was the breeze, whispering how it would soon be time to sleep. The first, brave stars were peeping out overhead.  
  
He took off his shoes, walked barefoot across the deck of the ship. The floor felt rough and warm; it reminded him of Van Helsing's chin just before it had been shaved. He liked to rub his cheek against the faint stubble, laugh at the ticklishness of it. Reminders were abound here, that much was clear from the sad, far-off look in the Hunter's eyes. Carl hoped there were no other passengers on deck; after a perfunctory glance around that corroborated his hopes, he padded up to stand behind the Hunter, wrapping his arms around his waist and nestling his face on his back, in-between his shoulder blades. It was a nice, firm place. It made him feel safe, out here on the too-open sea.  
  
"What are you thinking of?" Carl asked, though he knew the answer.  
  
"Anna."  
  
"Do you miss her?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Anything else?"  
  
"You."  
  
"Do you miss me?"  
  
"Of course." Carl sighed, nuzzled his lover again, and closed his eyes.  
  
Night was falling down on them, but now the light was irritating. So was Van Helsing, a little. Who was this man, that he could feel alone no mater how surrounded by people he was? It was true. No matter where he went, he would feel alone. He always tried to hide it, but there were times when Carl would still a quiet glance at the Hunter and see a not-so-secret longing written all over him. What he wouldn't give to fill that nameless hole in the other man's soul.  
  
"Do you want to know something, Carl?" Van Helsing's voice continued, how much later he wasn't sure.  
  
"I want to know lot's of things."  
  
"Do you want to know what I'm thinking?"  
  
"Yes. But that doesn't mean you'll get a penny, you beggar." Carl's laugh at what he thought was rather funny dwindled when he felt a deep sigh resonate through his human pillow. "Tell me, Gabriel."  
  
"Sometimes.... I wonder which of us needs the other more."  
  
They spent the rest of the night in silence. When Carl raised his sleepy self up onto his elbows to gaze down into Van Helsing's face, he could not read the man's thoughts, though he theorized they were dark; Gabriel had gone away for the night, apparently. But it was a passing thing. By morning, he was laughing again.

* * *

They created their own little world, though the one outside was all too happy to howl at them for it. No one should be able to have that kind of peace, that kind of power, it thought. But it was too busy screaming to see.... not everything was perfect in that little world apart from the Carpathian Mountains.  
  
That little world was created against a blizzard ripping through, and created by nothing more than two thick coats wrapped tightly around the two men. Van Helsing had opened the front of his shirt to the waist and guided Carl's head there so that the Friar could soak in the warmth from his bare chest. Their heavy coats, one on top of the other, deadened the sounds and sensations of the outside world. _Deadened._ So fitting a word, he realized. The light in Gabriel's warm, chestnut eyes had been deadened too. Once more he had fallen into some deep, dark crevice within, one so tiny that even Carl could not wriggle his way in.  
  
Van Helsing was acutely- painfully -aware of Carl's every need, every movement, and made sure he was tightly held and toasty warm. Somehow, Van Helsing's protectiveness frightened him. It took him a while to realize why; fear was radiating off his beloved. In two souls so closely allied, an infection like fear spreads quickly. Carl wanted to ask what was wrong, but never did. He nuzzled the warm skin beneath him, fluttered his eyelashes against the skin on Gabriel's neck, but got no answer for some time. That is, until Gabriel rested his head against the Friar's with a great, heaving sigh, one wet with tears. Carl held him back as tightly as he could when fear made him shake. Something was wrong.  
  
Even then Gabriel Van Helsing had been dying.

* * *

Slowly, his eyes opened. Slowly, the memories faded. It was the long, slow letdown, the long, slow death. Actually, it was just a return to the present. But death and reality were synonymous then.  
  
Carl sat up, his back stiff though he had not been sleeping. He didn't like sleep anymore. Beds were too cold, too hard. They didn't move with the gentle rhythm of breathing, the tempo of life. Besides, how could he sleep now?  
  
He knew.  
  
His heartbeat was slow and dull, but it was still a garish sound for the Friar as he stood from his chair, bypassed his books. His mind flirted lamely with the idea of doing more research, but the relationship didn't progress. Why bother, anyway? He knew.  
  
He knew what had happened.  
  
He knew there was no cure.  
  
He knew that while he was forgotten.... he himself could never forget.  
  
-----  
_I miss you  
Miss you so bad  
I don't forget you  
Oh, it's so sad_  
-----  
  
"Thomas was right." Carl said to himself, his voice cracking slightly. Normally, he would've been hopping mad at the thought of one of his aides beating him to a realization, but it didn't matter now. What mattered was that he knew.  
  
Knowledge is so terrible a thing.  
  
It had been a spell, a memory spell. So Carl had been partially right in thinking it was amnesia, but not quite there. Here was where magic came in; you see, amnesia normally does not kill. But this one would. Likely it had been cast at point blank, otherwise it would not have sent Gabriel into a coma; he would've been able to stumble back to Carl and tell him what had happened. Carl would've rushed him back to Rome, assuring him that they would find the cure. But they would be rushing to the Vatican only to see that there was no cure. So the manuscript had said, in ominous tones.  
  
_All manuscripts say that. _He started to reason. _It makes them sound scarier. _That had been Carl's first thought when Matthias had brought the ancient parchment to him, but it had been swiftly crushed. He was too tired, too weak, to hope.  
  
It had started with Van Helsing's memories of people and places; hence the reason he had recognized Carl for only a few seconds. His body was still struggling against it, and losing the battle. Next, the spell would move onto his muscle memory. He would forget how to walk, how to speak, and eventually how to move his body altogether.  
  
It would cause his skin and bones to forget how to heal; even the tiniest cut could turn fatal, and he had already been wounded. He would forget how to regulate his body temperature, going from burning hot to icy cold. He would forget how to digest his food. But none of this would kill him, it would be done so skillfully that it left him with just one memory: what it was to beg for death. There was only one course the spell could take. Slowly, but unstoppably, he would forget the most basic instinct of all creatures. He would forget how to breathe.  
  
And Carl knew.  
  
Even if Van Helsing did remember him, at the last, he would be physically unable to say anything to attest to this. It was strange, how clinical Carl's thoughts had become on the matter. When he had first found out, he had flown into a flurry of emotions more numerous than snowflakes. He had railed against it, gone through what seemed like every book and scroll they had. Nothing. And in accompaniment to that wrenching note, all his emotions went away. He became nothing too.  
  
Carl wasn't sure how long ago that had been. He had drifted around the catacombs, gone once to Van Helsing's side to see how far along it was. His eyes had tracked him when he moved around the room; he had shivered slightly when Carl had ghosted his lips over his feverish cheek. The fever, and the sudden chill afterwards, signaled it all.  
  
Carl knew it.  
  
He felt it.  
  
It would be today.  
  
The day he would remember for the rest of his life. The day his life would end.  
  
"Did you know that, Gabriel?" He said softly to the air. "We're going to die today."  
  
----  
_I hope you can hear me  
I remember it clearly_  
-----  
  
"Brother Carl?" Came the voice from the door. It was solid, but timid. Carl made note of that. Matthias was timid this day. He would remember it anyway, even without noting it. He would remember everything about this day.  
  
"Yes?" Carl asked, turning in his chair.  
  
"Would you like Thomas and I to get you some more books? Take some back? Anything?" He finished desperately. Desperate and timid. Like the world.  
  
"No. You don't need to do anything today, neither you or Thomas. Actually, just one thing." Carl amended quickly, standing with similar speed. "Both of you. Go out into the city today. Find someone to love, and love them with all your hearts. Ignore the consequences. Just love this day, love that person, embrace them both. Because after today.... nothing will be the same."  
  
----  
_The day  
You slipped away  
Was the day  
I found it won't be the same  
Oh_  
----  
  
Matthias disappeared. Carl didn't stop to think on whether or not he would follow his strange orders; it didn't matter so much. Something was tugging on his heartstrings, anxious as an impatient little child. He followed the tugging, in the slow way the day demanded. Everything seemed slow, everything _needed_ to be slow. How else could one take in all that was happening, all that was changing, all that was being lost?  
  
The little child tugging at his heartstrings, begging for comfort, led him through crowds of people. He registered each time he brushed against them, made sure to make eye contact with as many as he could. Did they all feel it too? Some did, some didn't. He didn't enlighten them. The dark is easier to handle until you know there's light. For him, the pain was that there had once been light, and now it was gone. He was in the long, slow fading of the light, the slipping away of day into night. Perhaps the others felt it too, felt it and weren't perturbed because they thought the light would come again. They didn't know what Carl knew. They didn't know that the light was slipping away forever.  
  
-----  
_Na na  
Na na na na na_  
-----  
  
His heartstrings nearly snapped with the strain, so hard were they pulled, as Carl reached the door to Van Helsing's room. No one was swarming around it anymore; yesterday they had realized that hope was gone, and the vacuum it left had sucked them away from the place. It was silent now, so still and silent. Slowly, Carl approached the door. He couldn't count- no one could -how many times his heart had led him here since he had found out. It hurt too much to go in, and hurt too much to be locked outside. Only once he had been able to enter, and only once had he forced himself to leave. With all his heart he wanted to be there when Gabriel finally slipped away, and with all his heart he couldn't bear the thought of watching him grow still.  
  
He opened the door.  
  
The air was thick and in want of circulation, so he left it ajar. The scent of blood, faint and acrid, lingered all around, hovering as though in wait for something. The scent of death was there too, that deceptively sweet odor that cloyed Carl and made him feel sick. It too was waiting.  
Van Helsing was lying on his back, his head lolled to one side. His chest still moved in the faintest imitation of breathing, as was easy to see. The Hunter's shirt had been opened, since his clothes had been too heavy for him to lift along with his chest. For a brief moment, Carl imagined walking over to him, laying his head down upon that chest and closing his eyes. Letting the world boil down to that simple, steady beat. Letting everything fall away when it stopped. Dying beside the man he loved.  
  
There was the briefest flash, the image of Van Helsing sitting up and seeing Carl lying there, running his strong, callused fingers through the Friar's hair and teasing him about his melodrama. Then he could hear himself growing angry and getting ready to shout at Van Helsing for scaring him, and feel Gabriel's laugh rumbling through his chest, his lips pressing themselves to Carl's and his hands pressing their bodies close together. Oh, how he could feel still, a dreadful reminder that they were both still alive, alive and waiting for the end..... the waiting was the worst part.  
Carl leaned over Van Helsing's bedside, settling for just watching him breathe. As much as he wanted to, he didn't need to rest his head on the other man's chest. The rhythm of his heart was one inherently understood by Carl, because it was also the rhythm of his own. At all times of day and night, he could feel it resonating through his body, strong and omnipresent. It was fading now. They both were fading.  
  
He watched as two chestnut eyes cracked open into the smallest of slits, then forced themselves open wider. Even when dulled by sleep, Gabriel's eyes were so familiar, so liquid, so warm, so achingly beautiful. The Hunter's lips twitched limply in something that might've been a smile as he reached up to rest the very tips of his fingers on the Friar's cheek.  
  
"Blue eyes...." He whispered, frowning slightly. "I've seen you somewhere before.... Do you work here?" His eyes brightened in realization.  
  
"I practically live here." Carl said, unable to keep the savage hollowness out of his voice.  
  
"Oh..." The man's- for he was a stranger now -face fell a little. "That's a shame. This isn't a good place to live."  
  
"No. It isn't." Carl replied.  
  
"Well, could you perhaps get me a glass of water?" He asked faintly.  
  
"I could get you the world if you asked for it." He whispered back with more emotion than should've been possible in his voice. The man's lips formed at last something recognizable as a smile, one that set a veneer of warmth over his otherwise glassy chestnut eyes, so familiar yet so alien.  
  
"That's rather nice of you to say to someone you don't even know." He returned. Carl smiled weakly in return and backed out of the room.  
  
Once in the hall, he was running. Tears slashed down his cheeks in wet, biting ribbons. Gabriel didn't know who he was. A stranger was in the bed in that room.  
  
He sprinted into the library, looking for solace among the quiet, unassuming tomes. A thought of how he meant to go there to say good-bye to his lover flittered through. He had never gotten the chance, he had been so paralyzed with anguish. And he knew, right then, that he could never go back into that room.  
  
----  
_I didn't get around to kiss you  
Good-bye on the hand  
I wish that I could  
See you again  
I know that I can't_  
-----  
  
Then a slow, burning sensation filled Carl, a sensation he associated absently with anger. Not just anger, fury. He was furious about something, though he felt detached from the emotion. He was furious at- himself? At himself for giving up? Without even knowing what he was doing, he tore through the books, throwing the unhelpful ones aside with abandoned. Caution was thrown to the wind and clumsily caught. Carl didn't notice. Hope had returned, a candle guttering desperately in wake of the coming dark. Who had he been to give up? But as he thought that, he realized that he WAS giving up a little of the candle with every passing second. Time was running out.  
  
His hands felt the full effect of that furious hope, nearly ripping pages as they turned them. Carl didn't register anything unless it was a lead, the hope so blinded him. When he heard the sound of his own heart, beating so hard and fast, he thought that surely the hope would kill him. It stopped abruptly when he at last found the right page.  
  
It was fluttered innocently enough as it fell to the ground, but he knew it was a tricky one. Either that or his aides were stupid. It had become hideously creased and scrunched into the pages of the book where they had found the information about the spell; in fact, it was stuck in-between that page and the one after it. Some vigorous shaking from Carl had it loose.  
  
His hands were oddly still, his movements methodical, as he read it. The candle of hope held very still and the world held its breath. There was a cure.  
  
_There was a cure._  
  
Never mind that it was a spell too, never mind that God would most likely condemn him to Hell if he went through with this. If Gabriel died, Carl would likely kill himself anyway. Damned if he did and damned if he didn't.  
  
Various cause and effect relationships played through his head, drawing him out of the known world and into that of the arcane. As he slipped away, he began to wonder what exactly the consequences of this _working_ would be.

* * *

It was exactly an hour later when Carl awoke. The world was sharp and angular to his eyes. Everything was in biting contrast to the next thing; the cold floor, the blood dribbling down his chin, the soft light, the harsh angles of the room and the symbol he had drawn beneath him. The surging hope he had felt before, and the overwhelming uncertainty he felt now.  
  
Had it worked?  
  
Carl left everything as it had been, the Church be damned. They could wet their priestly robes with fear when they saw the room and he wouldn't care. He had just used magick to save the man he loved. He had just about excommunicated himself. If that was already done, what did he need them for?  
  
He raced down the halls, towards Gabriel's room. His heart beat out the cadence of war, war against the God who had imposed death on the race of humans, who had made his Hunter suffer so much. He shoved everyone and anyone who got in his way out of it. Let them all be damned too. Everyone but he and Gabriel.  
  
Two church guards stood outside the door to his lover's room. Carl grew suddenly afraid, suddenly cautious. He was suddenly terrified to see what he had wrought.  
  
"You can't go in." One said as Carl approached the door again, the door that he had sworn he would not enter.  
  
He backed off only slightly, held in stasis between two overwhelming urges: the urge to enter and fling his arms around the man he loved, his angel, and the urge to get as far away as possible before Fate came rushing back to him and stole Gabriel away again. With nothing else to do but stand there and feel his soul, even the very fabric of the world, tear apart, he turned to the guard.  
  
_Poor fool._ He thought to himself. _Innocence is bliss. He does not_ _know what has happened here, what will happen here. He doesn't feel. None of them do. I had not felt up until this moment. We are none of us really alive until we've come to terms with death.  
  
I almost wish I were numb again._  
  
"And why not? Have we already given up hope? Is he...?" Carl let the dreadful sentence hang.  
  
"He's gone mad. We're under the Cardinal's orders not to let anyone in or out, for their own safety." The guard continued in a monotone. How Carl envied him for that voice, that ability to keep scarring emotions at bay.  
  
"He's gone mad, you say?" He said in a voice that was the faintest, most trembling inch from calm. The guards shifted uneasily, their spears lowering and crossing in front of the door.  
  
"Yes." The second one responded slowly.  
  
"Well so have I." Carl smiled, seizing a spear in each hand and slamming them backwards into the faces of their owners.  
  
The first guard recovered more quickly, taking the blow and stepping back with it, giving him the room to twirl his spear around and slam Carl in the ribs with its butt end. The Friar choked on his breath and stumbled forward onto his knees, bile rising in his throat. A new pair of guards, having been on their way to relieve the other two, rushed over. One ran over to the guard Carl had left in a daze on the floor, while the other approached Carl himself.  
  
"Are you alright, Brother?" He asked softly. Carl's head lolled back so that he could look at the guard and his companion better.  
  
"Two? Why just two?" Carl asked feebly. "My Gabriel deserves more..."  
  
"He's gone unconscious, Brother." One guard said slowly, as though speaking to a child. "God has come to take his angel back."  
  
Carl shuddered once, a shudder that blanketed his body and found its way into a shake, a shake that turned into something bordering on convulsions. The feelings, the emotions, were leaving him, a nauseating withdrawal. The numbness returned as he pulled himself to his feet and started to pace before the door.  
  
"If he awakens, you must let me in there." The Friar said warningly. "I must help him."  
  
"If you believe that you can." The guard said kindly, almost condescendingly.  
  
The word struck him then.... believe. To believe something implied that you weren't sure about it. Carl wasn't all that sure, now that he was cold and calculating again, that he believed in anything anymore.  
  
That is, until he heard Gabriel's scream.  
  
-----  
_I've had my wake up  
Won't you wake up?  
I keep asking why  
And I can't take it,  
It wasn't fake, it  
Happened you passed by_  
----  
  
Hell couldn't have stopped Carl from opening those doors. Maybe the guards knew it, because they didn't try to either. Even the basic laws of physics seemed to stand down from him; he was at Van Helsing's side faster than should've been physically possible. The Vatican's- and Carl's -Hunter was sitting up in bed, the look of a caged animal on his face as his eyes swept the room, trying to find the source of some fleeing nightmare.  
  
No, it wasn't the look of a cornered animal in his eyes. It was the look of a frightened child, searching for something it knew it had lost. Whether Gabriel knew it or not, Carl knew what he was looking for: him.  
  
"I'm here." Carl crooned, sitting on the edge of the bed and winding his arms around Gabriel, leaning up and tilting his head to one side to plant the softest of kisses on the very edge of the Hunter's mouth.  
  
He stiffened at first, but then relaxed, drawing Carl forward to sit on his lap. Carl leaned his head backwards against the other's shoulder, turning his face down to lock their lips in a soft and comforting kiss. Van Helsing made a soft sound in his throat, a murmur of relief and sadness, his hands roaming down the Friar's body. He still remembered every ticklish spot, every pressure point, and every nook that gave his smaller lover pleasure, Carl noted, as he made use of every one. But after a moment, they broke off, and the Friar went to kneel at the edge of Van Helsing's bed.  
  
"I'm here." He whispered again, reverently. The other man slid down on the sheets to lie flat. Carl took his hand and kissed the palm softly, before settling just to watch him. Gabriel seemed to nod for a moment, but it was a slow and confused one. Ice filled the pit of Carl's stomach. _Please don't forget..._  
  
"Wh-who are you again?" He asked faintly, his voice breaking at the end. Carl staggered back and away from the man he loved, tears biting into his blue eyes.  
  
"It's me." He choked out. _"Me."  
_  
"I.... want... to.... remember..... you." Every word was an effort for Gabriel, that was plain to see. His hand reached out for Carl, his eyes hurt and pleading. The Friar began to step forward; was that recognition he saw in those eyes? No. He got closer, all he saw was confusion. "But I don't know who you are...."  
  
"Yes! Yes you do!" Carl cried desperately, falling to his knees a foot away from the bedside. But he couldn't bring himself to close that foot. He couldn't stand looking in those lost, pleading eyes. His Gabriel was gone. There was nothing left of his world. "Prove me wrong, Gabriel! Prove me wrong! Please!"  
  
Carl leapt to his feet the second Van Helsing reached out for him and backed up until he hit a wall. Van Helsing's hand was still extended towards him, but he couldn't get near to it. That was a stranger reaching out to him. A stranger reaching out, craven for comfort. Comfort that Carl could give to no one but his Gabriel.  
  
He had one last look at Van Helsing before he fled the room. The last thing he saw was the terrible sorrow washing over the Hunter as he sank away from the world, lost forever to him.  
And there was nothing Carl could do.  
  
The cure had failed.  
  
-----  
_Now you're gone, now you're gone  
There you go, there you go  
Somewhere, I **can't** bring you back_  
----  
  
Who was that man that had fled? That was all Van Helsing wanted to know. He felt that he _should_ know him, and it was bad that he didn't. It was very bad. That man had come to him every night in his dreams, comforted him, tried to help him. He had... come to love him. There was nothing wrong with that, right? There was nothing wrong with loving someone, true? He needed that especially now. But there was nothing he could do about it.  
  
"Come back..." He called feebly. But the man- he was a monk, correct? -did not hear.  
  
Then he knew that he was truly alone.  
-----  
_Now you're gone, now you're gone  
There you go, there you go  
Somewhere, you're **not** coming back_  
-----  
  
When Van Helsing awoke, it was late. The air was frigid and too close about him, so close it was invasive; was he still in that godforsaken cave? Why had Carl not come to get him yet?  
  
"Please don't stay angry with me." He murmured without thinking and without opening his eyes. "You can't." He remained still a few moments after these words, which seemed magic at the time, but no Carl came. Well, Carls or no Carls, this Gabriel would have to pull himself to his feet and get on with life... whatever was left of it.  
  
He was met with heart-stopping shock when he realized that the 'world' was not a cave in Transylvania, but a room in the medicinal wing of the Order.  
  
By sheer force of will, he kept himself calm. There had to be a reason he was there. He couldn't have just... appeared back here for no reason. And if that had happened, Carl would've been the first on the scene and the last to leave. Why, he'd still be here now, his books making mountains around him and his head buried in them, trying to figure out what had happened.  
  
But Carl was not here. Without him to answer it, the question fell to Van Helsing: how did I get here?  
  
The question quickly became unanswerable. Any foray into his memories brought up instant walls, the kind of walls he had always found surrounding the deepest, darkest parts of his memories, the ones of the past. But these were not as all-encompassing. It was just like there was a dark blot, a fuzzy patch, on his memories surround the recent events in his life. Had he been dreaming?  
  
The last thing he remembered was fighting and killing the vampires. Then everything was blank... Suddenly, finding out how he had got there wasn't so important.  
  
Where was Carl?  
  
At the thought of that name, memories hit him in whirling flashes: disorganized, chaotic images. A boat. A tear. A flash of light. Murmured voices, rising every so often in withheld passion. A scream. Was it his or Carl's? It didn't matter now that they were at the height of their passion. They were as one, they were both crying out.  
  
And then another memory came, slow and clear as the moonrise. It was Carl sitting at his bedside, weeping, pleading with him to come back. Van Helsing wanted to cry out at the injustice of the scene. No one as pure as Carl- for he was pure and innocent, for all his hints of naughtiness -should have to beg like that. The world should be handed to him on a silver platter.  
  
This last memory changed now, into something that was more like a vision. Here he felt more like a bystander, standing by in Carl's room. The Friar was running around, knocking things over, flinging things out his window, and stuffing others in a pack roughly. A knife flashed in the meager light, disappeared into Carl's robes. A stream of half-hearted curses left his lips as he tried to wipe his eyes dry, slamming the pack onto his back and storming out of the room. And, eventually, out of the Vatican.  
  
It hit Gabriel then. Carl was gone.  
------  
_The day  
You slipped away  
Was the day  
I found it won't be the same  
No_  
-------  
  
"I heard he was awake..."  
  
"But why did Carl leave the room? He would've stayed...""I don't know. You've known him longest, Thomas..."  
  
"You were with him last, Matthias..."  
  
Van Helsing's heart pounded in trepidation. Weren't those the names of Carl's aides? They had to know what was going on. They had to be able to lie to him about it. There were a few more moments of whispered argument, which he could not hear above his pulse, and then one of the aides entered.  
  
"S-so you are awake?" He managed to eek out.  
  
"Carl. Where is he?" Gabriel demanded harshly, leaping to his feet and seizing the aide by the arm.  
  
-----  
_Na na  
Na na na na na_  
----  
  
"He's gone, Mr. Van Helsing. We don't know where he went." The aide's words were lost on him.  
  
Gabriel stood, looked out the window. He said nothing, and felt less. The very thing he had been fighting for was gone.  
  
"Carl..."  
----  
_I miss you  
_----

* * *

A/N-- Aren't yall just wishing Gabriel woulda listened to Anna's ghost? Wow.  
  
That was like a marathon. Excruciating and _baad_. (sorry, I'm a sprinter, not a long distance runner) I'm not sure that the song worked.... I love it and all, but in the end I don't think it fit. The next chapter should be better. This one was just kind of an in-betweener, with little dialogue or action. The next chapter will have lots of action... or it should. I just can't trust my muses or my abilities lately.... well, enough excuses and complaining. I'll let you review and tell me what you think.... but be gentle about it..?


	11. Tourniquet

A/N-- Ah, this story is almost at its end.... something both sad and relieving. It's been a challenge, but all your reviews have made it worthwhile! We have three more chapters to go, tho. Well, actually, not really three... I can't explain it. You'll see, though! M&M's and boxes of tissue to my reviewers: 

**kydasam**- I cannot tell you how happy your reviews make me! Your latest certainly started me off right, and had me working on my book the rest of the day! Yes, I am set on a career in literature... I want to publish my first book before I leave high school. Bloody well isn't easy, though.... I guess I just have to keep trying.   
Hey, I'll give credit to you any time! Your stories are awesome!   
I am most definitely in love with the sound of the words I write...... Not meaning to sound self-absorbed, of course! Metaphors have always come very naturally to me, tho this is the first story I have been able to use them correctly in. If you read some of my earlier work on the site, they were wayyyy overdone. Nice to see that someone thinks I've improved! You actually quoted one of my favorite parts of that chapter, there. And don't worry, I talk to stories too...! Once, I shouted 'AHA! I WAS RIGHT!!!' when I guessed the right ending to a story..... scared the whole house, too... And apparently you scare your cats!   
No worries about my state of mind... I am actually a surpisingly happy-go-lucky person!!! I just have a lot of dark on the inside... but it stays there.   
Thank you for all your other lovely comments.... you keep me going! That was the best review I've ever gotten!   
**PineappleIce**- Thanks for the reassurance about the song! I went back and reread the chapter after getting your review and then decided it worked out fine after all. It just felt really wrong when I was writing it... OMG! Poor you! Hope your finger mends nicely!   
**CuriousDreamWeaver**- Thanks for the review! It's nice to see that this fic still draws new readers.   
**Nikoru Sanzo**- I'm happy to see you enjoying the first couple chapters! I hope you got to read the rest of the story!   
**blackwolfs900**- Thanks for the review, it got me going again!   
**Drake and Jang**- Ahh, I feel your pain! Try and work past your writer's block, and thanks for the review!   
**Mithril Maiden**- Here's the update for you!   
**The Watcher4**- Is your name a nod to Buffy the Vampire Slayer? Just curious. Thanks for your review!

Okieday, here we go! This chapter should be interesting.... who said that Carl's actions wouldn't have consequences? Cuz I sure as hell didn't.... hehehehehe.....

This chapter's song is 'Tourniquet' by Evanescence. Next chapter... is a surprise.

* * *

Chapter Eleven:   
Tourniquet 

_How long could it have lasted, anyway?_   
**Not very. But it was so lovely while it did last.**   
_How long before we would've been caught?_   
**It was inevitable. But for a stolen sweet, (1) it was so amazingly wholesome.**   
_How long until you would've been punished?_   
**We knew we were doomed. But we might've escaped.**   
_How long until you accept that it's over?_

Van Helsing opened his eyes to face the world anew. That last question he didn't deign to answer. He had never accepted that it was over. He had always been fighting. Would he have given up on killing Dracula after the silver stake didn't work? Would he have give up finding out his past if someone told him it was impossible?

It seemed that all he could do was ask himself answerless questions. They were mostly questions he might have been able to answer, had Carl been there. But now they just hung in the air, like an axe waiting to fall, because Carl had been his answer. Or, at the very least, his answer-finder.

But he didn't let that stop him. The first week after Carl's disappearance had been extremely busy, filled with question answering and endless tests. Even without one of their brightest stars, the Vatican's research team was bent on finding out what had happened to him and how it had mysteriously stopped. The days in quarantine were borne with the stoic nature that Van Helsing had perfected long before, and in no small measure to memories of Carl. He had weaned himself off of those not long after that; they were a double edged blade.

He made utterly certain never to once ask the Cardinal- or anyone, for that matter -about Carl's whereabouts. No one ever approached him with it. They didn't even dare to whisper that name, once so sacred. From inference, they knew the consequences of infuriating the Hunter. They knew because he had not complained once about going back to Transylvania, or to fight any monster for that matter. And when he came back, there was never a scratch on his body, or on any part of his clothes. The monsters couldn't be getting easier; he had to be getting better. It was because he had a reason to fight now, emotions to be let go. He was_fighting_ now, and they thought they knew the reason why. He was deeply wounded by something. All of them knew better than to get in the path of a wounded animal.

It was easier leaving and coming home now, without someone there. He could report straight to Jinette, clean himself up, get a hot meal and a good night's sleep, then head out again. Things were easier than they had ever been: he followed Jinette's orders without question- he was no longer fighting to remain longer, or about being the Left Hand of God, or about the Order's policies -and so a sizable chunk was taken out of the tension in the Vatican, and without someone at home to worry about, Van Helsing found himself able to focus. He could come, rest, go, fight, return, and feel willing and able to leave again.   
In others words, his life was happily going nowhere.

But it was so_busy_ going nowhere that he hadn't even realized a month had passed until Matthias brought it up.

"The Cardinal sent me." The younger aide said.

"Good, I was going to see him." Van Helsing said smoothly not looking up from what he was doing, which happened to be cleaning off his coat. A minotaur had caught him a good one in the ribs, but it had cost the creature its head. It was his first sizable injury in a long time.

"I'm not to bring you to _him_." Matthias said. "He wants you to undergo testing."

"For what?" Van Helsing asked, a little more sharply than he meant. He may as well have thrown daggers at the aide, whose face had paled considerably.

"Well, Mr. Van Helsing, it's, ah, been.... a, a, a, a, a, a, a month since your.... illness." He finished lamely.

Gabriel said nothing more. He walked out of the room, his lips set in a tight, grim line. Matthias followed and then led, almost shaking with unashamed relief.

He was on fire inside as they walked. It had been a month. A month since Carl had left him. It wasn't that Van Helsing hated Carl for leaving, oh no. He himself had almost done so once. No, he loved Carl. But it was a love so terrible, so binding, so all-consuming, that it was almost hatred.

----   
_I tried to kill the pain   
But only brought more   
(So much more_)   
----

He could not forget this, no matter how hard he tried. Even lying on the cold examination table couldn't make him forget his Friar's warmth. He heard them murmuring around him, dry, professional voices, and all he could hear was his lover's laugh.   
He could never forget Carl. He felt somehow betrayed that Carl had been able to run away and forget him.

-----   
_I lay, dying   
And I'm pouring   
Crimson regret... and betrayal_   
----

They probed and pinched him, drew blood and made him go through the basic ranges of physical motion and then tested his reflexes- which they noted were excellent. They gave him a basic physical and checked him for signs of disease. Gabriel figured they were done when they backed away from the table and stood staring at him.

"Well?" He asked tersely, swinging his legs over the side of the table and looking straight at them.

"The report said you had little to no injuries." Said one calmly.

"Yes. And?"

"Where did those come from?"

Van Helsing looked down, following the doctor's gaze to his chest. He couldn't stop himself from jumping. Where_had_ those scars on his chest come from?

They looked almost fresh, still crusted, undulating folds of flesh tinged with red. Almost like ripples, they worked their way smaller and smaller to the center of his sternum, where there was a tiny white circle. He knew instinctively it was bone.   
How the hell had he got that and not felt it? Then again, it didn't exactly look natural.

His fingers, shaking somehow, were drawn inevitably to that white patch of bone. It hovered over the flesh, rippled like water, bypassed the tender red areas, and went straight to that ivory circle. He touched it, pressed on it, and there was no pain. And yet, the whole room groaned as though_it_ was in pain.

He looked up and he could hear the beating of his heart. Strange that something meant to be so comforting, something that told you that you were still alive, should be so utterly terrifying. Of course, that terror only meant that his heart would start pounding faster.

Dust was starting to settle in the air. Gabriel frowned, wanting to know where it came from. His hand idly traced the circle of bone again and there was another groan from the room, this time accompanied by a grating sound, and he could swear he was seeing the bricks of the windowless room shifting against each other.

"What in the name of Heaven is that?" One of the doctors asked, his voice suddenly shaken.

"Hell." Van Helsing answered lightly. He was on fire with fear inside. _Dammit Carl, if this was a temporary fix I'll kill myself. I didn't deserve to lose you over something that wouldn't even work.   
_   
It had to work. It had to work. His brilliant Carl wasn't there anymore. There was no one left to save him.

----   
_I'm dying,   
Praying,   
Bleeding,   
I'm screaming   
Am I too lost to be saved?   
Am I too lost?_   
----

The tremors grew and grew and he finally thought to move his hand from the circle of bone. When he did it was like some invisible leash had been snapped and he regained his ability to move and think.

Alright. That wasn't there before that he remembered. Step one is to find out what the hell it is.

Without another word, he yanked on his turtleneck and his coat, almost forgetting his hat before sprinting out of the room. It was off to the library.

* * *

"What was the last section Friar Carl was in before he left?" He growled, seizing the shoulder of the youth before him. 

"How should I know? I don't work here!" He cried.

Gabriel shoved him away impatiently. Something was wrong and he didn't have time for this. He fancied no one else would notice either. Carl had a way of making himself unnoticeable when he was upset that the Hunter almost envied. Now it was off to Carl's room at a run, his heart pounding. Something was so very wrong, so very wrong, and it frightened him that he didn't know what.

He burst into the room where he and the Friar had first consummated their love.

"What have you done, Carl?" He whispered, leaving the door to bang idly against the wall behind it. Perfection is a terrible thing, and as he began to sift through the papers and melted candles, strange symbols drawn all over the floor and walls, everything began to make terribly perfect sense.

It was a spell. A spell to reach into the spirit realm and recover his lost memories. But that did tend to tear the fabric between dimensions, didn't it? And Carl, who had never before worked magick in his life, was clueless to the fact that they needed to be bound again. And so Gabriel had been left caught half there and half here. And that part of him that was left_there_ was in a place where thoughts were reality. A reality that had begun to leak through into this world.

After all, he had been feeling that his heart was about to _rip out of his chest from this forced emptiness, _and the world_did_ feel like it-

"No..." Van Helsing whispered, the book sliding out of his hand. Honed muscles sprung into action and he was flinging himself out the door, bolting down the hall, shoving priest, monk and friar alike out of the way on his way for the surface.

The air hit him in a rush of cold when he burst out into the roof of the Vatican, the very gable that Carl had used to watch his returns from, and chilled his bones. But it had nothing to do with the sudden chill in his blood, looking out over what he could see.

_After all, the world did feel like it was going to end without Carl at his side.   
_   
----   
My God, my tourniquet   
Return to me, salvation   
My God, my tourniquet   
Return to me, salvation   
----

The hole in the sky was the worst bit of it, he decided, darting through the screaming crowd. It was much easier than getting out of the Vatican. Certainly the Order's catacombs were impregnable, but with that impregnability came ignorance of the world above. They had not known to move, to run. Up here, they had not known anything else since the morning had started.   
That was probably when that ghastly hole in the sky had appeared. The rays of the sun had turned to swords and scythed their way through the heavens, casting down the stars. There was a red gap where it must have happened, staring out into emptiness. Fat red drops would fall from it every so often, spatters of blood the size of raindrops that burned on contact. The Hunter let out an unrestrained yell as one nasty one managed to hit the nape of his neck and trail down the length of his spine, just like raindrops enjoy doing. These were not half so enjoyable.

Instinctively, he headed for that tear. It had to be the source of all the problems. The circle of bone on his chest burned as he ached for Carl's surety in fire, his almost unshakable knowledge. It was the almost part that was the best. He loved his little faults.

_Where are you now?_ He queried, a bullet fired point blank from his shotgun taking the head off of what appeared to be a dragon the size of a large dog that had been in his way. The splatter of blood and hot gore was unfelt. _Dammit, right when I need you I don't know. I never know without you. Then again, there are- were -times when I don't- didn't -know what to do **with** you._

At last the Vatican's guards came surging up and warrior-priests were beside him. Monsters were appearing from every which way, from the ground and from walls, descending from the sky at will. They often called for Van Helsing's help- too late. He was focused on something. He would get to that tear.

_I'll see you soon, Carl, if you are dead. And I have looked._ He thought. _Not much longer until we are in Hell together. And all my secret preparing will come to nothing.I know we will be together, no matter where we go.   
_   
----   
_Do you remember me,   
Lost for so long?   
Will you be on the other side   
Or will you forget me?   
_----

He knew instantaneously when he was under the rip, because all was silent. Dust swirled around him, shining softly in the breeze; an annoyance turned to beauty and then dispelled by a stronger force when a terrifying gust nearly bowled him over. It snatched away his hat and he flung off his coat, willing to let it have that too. Instead the duster flopped resolutely to the ground, weighed down by its numerous weapons. He cast the other ones on his person aside too. There was no need for them now, none of the monsters were here.

His flung his head back and looked straight up to the sky, staring his enemy in the face, ready to fight and ready to die.

----   
_I'm dying,   
Praying,   
Bleeding,   
I'm screaming   
Am I too lost to be saved?   
Am I too lost...?_   
----

It was so easy to get lost in that black, so easy to let it ease the pain in its all-consuming way. But he knew it wasn't right. He wouldn't be the key, wouldn't let it devour him and not choke.

He did let it swirl him up in its arms of energy, a vortex of wind made visible only by the debris that it caught. He forced his feet to stay on the ground, grinding his teeth and resisting the urge to yell. The energy only got stronger, little veins of electricity popping out and snagging his skin until they formed a broad blue mirror in front of him. He heard snatches of voices, screams and laughter, moans of passion and groans of pain, and saw images flying before his eyes.

His memories.

The energy was trying to take them back.

He was the key.

It was trying to fix what was wrong.

Or was it?

"I don't know!" He screamed. "Help me!" He almost expected an answer. "Carl isn't here, so you'll have to do!" And then... he knew.

----   
_My God, my tourniquet   
Return to me, salvation   
My God, my tourniquet   
Return to me, salvation_   
----   
The mirror rotated lazily on its side, sensing his decision by the light in his eyes. He knew. There was a calmness about him as he watched the blue, crackling thing bury itself into the pavement, through rock and earth and right through the dimensions themselves, until there was a hole just like that in the sky above: endless, black, bleeding slightly.

Carl's blood.

As this new hole appeared, the one in the sky above began to mend itself, closing with a whisper and a showering of the red tears. Van Helsing did not flinch as they struck his back. He approached the new hole and a new mirror appeared on the other side of it. While all else in the world was still it began to howl with the wind, beckoning him, insisting he come, demanding it.

He took another step.

----   
_My wounds cry for the grave   
My soul cries for deliverance   
Will I be denied?   
Christ, tourniquet   
My suicide.... ._   
----

"Van Helsing!" 

The words echoed around him, drawn out long and loud. He turned away from his fate, foot dangling in the air above the precipice: _just one last look at the world...   
_   
In fact, his whole world_was_ standing before him. 

It was Carl who had shouted his name. 

----   
_(Return to me, salvation)   
(Return to me, salvation)_   
----

* * *

A/N-- (1) Based loosely on a line from Phantom of the Opera because I was listening to the song 'Point of No Return' while writing this.   
I hate this chapter. Really, truly and utterly hate it. There are so many things I wish I could change but I really just wanted to finish this up so I rushed it. Please try not to criticize it too much, chances are I already know all too well what I did wrong.   
As for the plot... I am not going to say anything. You shall all find out for yourselves. Hehehehe... Reviews shall bring enlightenment to the ending of the story..... 


	12. Where Do We Go From Here?

Chapter Twelve:   
Where Do We Go From Here?

DUN DUN DUN!! CARL'S BACK!!! But, the story goes two ways from here.   
In the writing of this story, I had two clear endings in my mind, both completely different. Both fit the plot well, and both I could see happening to our beloved characters. I had both written, and loved the way both played out. I agonized over which one to pick.   
I at last made a choice, and guess what?_You_ get to pick. That's right, I'm that lazy. I've got both endings, 'Finale 1: Even In Death' and 'Finale 2: 'Til I Get Over You,' for you to choose from. You can decide their fate. Pick one at random, read 'em both, try and guess what will happen in either of them...... But you decide.   
So, what'll it be?

_**Bring me to life**   
And then **take me away**   
As you're **taking over me**   
I realize that I'm **haunted   
**And how far we both have **fallen**   
I don't want this to be **imaginary**,   
But I don't dare think it's real,** my immortal**   
Just a **whisper** and it can all end   
There'll be no one left to say **hello** ere morning comes   
I can't accept that you've **slipped away** ,   
Because I'll always be your **tourniquet**   
I've saved you, but where does it go from here?   
I'll always love you, but will it be **even in death**   
Or just **'til I get over you**...?_   
--Verona Dracula (can be viewed at times from Carl's POV, others from Gabriel's.)

Feedback:   
**CuriousDreamWeaver**- I rather liked that ending myself. Hope you enjoy the grand finale(s!   
**Mithril Maiden**- Yea, that makes sense. I still feel kinda guilty, though... hope this un-confuses you!   
**PineappleIce**- THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR DEDICATION! I hope you enjoy the finale(s!   
**Jekr Dementor**- I hope I don't disappoint you with the endings!   
**blackwolfs900**- Here's the next chapter and thanks for your review!   
**kydasam**- Ohhhhh man did your review have me llaaaauuugghhiiinnnggg and grinning evilly!! One special thing about your reviews is that after reading them I always go and reread my fic and it doesn't seem half as bad as it was when I wrote it. Thanks so much for the boost! And please, no more heart attacks..! --cowering and whimpering-   
**The Watcher4**- Well, if everyone insists it wasn't rushed.... --sigh-- Hope you enjoy the ending(s)! I guess I really should see this Highlander series. Everyone says I'd like it.


	13. Finale 1: Even In Death

A/N- Not much to say but enjoy! 

This finale's song is _Even In Death_- by Evanescence (not on _Fallen_)

* * *

Finale 1:   
Even In Death 

Gabriel rushed into their kiss, held it long and hard. Carl was fairly certain he was having the life sucked out of him, that this was how it felt when one was bitten by a vampire. It was like drowning but not wanting to reach the surface, knowing your blood was being sucked away from you but not wanting to let go yet. He kissed Gabriel back, devoured him too. He was home at last.

And suddenly, there was nothing. No Gabriel, no home. Snares of blue energy reached out and tore Gabriel away. Their lips had been locked and so as they were ripped apart there was blood streaming down his chin. He tried to scream but the wind was moving so fast and hard that breathing was impossible. It flattened him, floored him, left him terrified and breathless.   
All went still as he stood.

The world dropped away as he walked forward. The hole was gone: earth and sky were whole again. Strange. Hole and whole. So different, so similar.

He realized just how disoriented he was as he staggered forward. So disoriented, he could practically see the words dashing back and forth in front of his eyes, frolicking. Then one slipped and fell and they both tumbled out of sight. He assumed that the fact he had shaken his head had caused them to fall, and he felt vaguely guilty.

_Alright, I've lost it. I shudder to think what state Gabriel's in, then... _

He did shudder. It was not a pleasant feeling.

No matter, he kept stumbling on. Gabriel couldn't have gotten far; the wind had just torn them apart, knocked him back towards the Vatican and sent Gabriel flying the opposite way. Just a matter of walking in a straight line until he found him.

No matter at all.

Carl could still taste his blood on his lips as he continued; Gabriel would pay for that. Oh, he'd give him such a kiss! His lips would be bleeding too! The Hunter bloody well deserved it- no pun intended. He had never relished in the taste of blood. And naturally, it didn't combine too well with the bile rising in his throat either when he saw his Hunter.

That body had never before seemed small. It was strong, broad, tall, muscled, a perfect weapon and a perfect pillow. But now, how impossibly small he seemed, lying crumpled on the ground, curled over on his side in a haunting echo of how he had enjoyed sleeping.

_Enjoys_! Carl chastised himself. Dust floated apologetically over them both as he collapsed to his knees beside Van Helsing, as if sorry that they had nothing else to offer but themselves.

"Gabriel?" He dared to ask, reaching out to roll the Hunter over.

He had to turn away and spit out the bile in his mouth before the sheer taste made him throw up entirely. One side of his skull was completely smashed.

"Gabriel?" He asked again, daring to shake his shoulders just a little. He slid down and lay his head on the man's chest, remembering that when he had done so in Transylvania he had heard that strong heart still beating on, undefeatable. Now it was silent.

Carl could give lectures on physics and decipher ancient riddles and talk just about anyone's ear off about anything, but in that moment he could not bring himself to scream.

"He's dead..."

"Van Helsing's dead..."

"Fetch the Cardinal! Tell him Van Helsing is dead..."

"He can't be..." Carl's antithesis was hardly heard as the warrior-priests gathered around him. As his eyes blinked rapidly, trying to clear tears, he could swear he saw Van Helsing standing before him, smiling, holding out his hand to help Carl up.

_What are you doing down there?_ His warm chestnut eyes laughed.

"He can't be..." He repeated. There was no answer.

----   
_Give me a reason to believe   
That you're gone   
I see your shadow so I know   
They're all wrong_   
----

Carl doubted that, had it not been obligatory, anyone would've moved his Hunter's body. But it was done, and he couldn't complain about that.

"Be careful. Take him back to my room. I can take care of him there." He fussed, darting in and around the party that had been assembled to carry Van Helsing. They eyed him and then eyed each other, but he really didn't see what was so 'funny' about what he had said. Gabriel was sick and he'd like to be the one to tend him. After all, it had been his fault they had gotten into this mess.

Due to his insisting and an indulging nod from the Cardinal, Van Helsing was carried to Carl's room. There the Friar took up residence for the next day or so, bustling around with ointments and bandages and reading books out loud to his Hunter. People trickled in daily, and they seemed so very kind to him. Condescending, even. Ha, it figured! They realize how important Van Helsing- and himself, if he didn't_say_ so himself -were after both nearly die! Well, he would treat them no differently than normal.

It took him three days to realize that the candles and flowers they were bringing in and putting around the bed were part of a memorial. When the moon rose and cast its silvery beams over the monument and the thought struck him, he fled the room.

----   
_Moonlight on the soft brown earth   
It leads me to where you are laid_   
----

The ceremony was surprisingly large. Not that the whole Order turned out to bid Van Helsing good-bye, but there were still more than Carl thought there would've been.

Cardinal Jinette himself read over the Hunter, but after the ceremony was done they seemed all to eager to put him in the ground. While just about everyone else scuttled away as they were lowering the coffin into the ground, Carl remained. The gravediggers were less than enthusiastic; at least the one in Transylvania had been_mildly_ amusing. Well, maybe Gabriel would find a way to laugh at them anyway. And if he didn't, then Carl was going to do it for him. Laughing was always nice.   
The grave was tucked away in a corner of the cemetery, hidden mostly by other, larger monuments. The gravestone itself was a simple, curved block of stone that said Gabriel's name on it and the date on which he had died. It was shaded by the walls nearby it, so that the sun would hardly ever fall upon its grassy bank. Little flowers grew all around it.

For a long while, Carl stood staring at it. He just knew Gabriel was hiding back there, waiting to come out. Well, he could wait too. He picked up a handful of soil and let it sift through his fingers, enjoying the softness of it. Oddly, it reminded him of the feel of Van Helsing's hair.

"Alright, Gabriel, it isn't funny anymore." He said softly. "Come out from behind the gravestone, wipe off the smirk I know is on your face, and kiss me."

When there was no one, he flung the dirt at the gravestone with an angry howl.

"Why did you let it beat you? Why were you too reckless to find another way?" Something in him tried to remind him that as long as he lived, a part of Gabriel would go on living too.... but the larger part of him had grown too old and too smart to believe in things like that. When someone's heart stopped beating, their life stopped. No changing that.

If that was so, why couldn't he believe that Van Helsing was dead?

He ripped one of the flowers out of the ground and shoved it in his pocket. He still believed in symbolism, and if he took something of this place away with him maybe he'd always have Gabriel.

It shriveled up and turned to ash before he ever got back to the friary.

----   
_They took you away from me   
But now I'm taking you home_   
----

"Your Grace?"

"Carl? What are you doing here?" Cardinal Jinette looked up with a frown.

"Well, I was wondering if you had any missions for Gabriel." Carl asked calmly, approaching the religious leader. His footsteps echoed oddly in the silence of the chapel.

Cardinal Jinette sighed, pursed his lips and looked back to the stained glass windows above him. Unlike many men, he did not move his lips when at prayer, so Carl had no idea when he'd be allowed to interrupt him again.

"Sir?" Carl stared, half in hope and half in horror, at the red back of his superior. Stiffly, he rose off his knees, but did not turn to face Carl.

"Do you have nothing else to do, Carl?"

"Well, yes sir, but he doesn't. I was wondering why you hadn't given him any missions recently. Surely we haven't given up on our fight against evil?"

"There are other hunters." The Cardinal dismissed.

"But Gabriel has gotten better and he needs to get out, you know..."

"Out of what, his grave? Don't blaspheme." Jinette said bitterly, turning around to face Carl. When he did, they both fell silent. They stood perhaps ten feet apart, but each felt as though they were standing on opposite sides of a gaping pit. Both knew that once those words had been said to Gabriel.

"Sir, he needs to get out of the Vatican."

"It is a beautiful house of God. Why would he want to leave?"

"Because he doesn't like it here." Carl protested. "He likes being free."

"He_is_ free now, Carl." The Cardinal said with a mixture of cold gentleness only he could concoct. "It's you that traps his memory here. Let him go." Carl trembled as he spoke.

"I don't believe it." He whispered as imperially as he could before scuttling off, back to his garret. He looked down at the courtyard below, waiting for Gabriel to get back. The Cardinal just thought he was crazy, that's why he hadn't given an answer. Gabriel was already on a long mission, so why give him another one?

"I must be losing my mind. I wonder if I could invent a helmet that kept it in." He considered it briefly, and supposed that he could do it as long as it didn't require traveling somewhere to get special parts. He would not leave this place until Gabriel got back. If his Hunter was trapped here, then so was he.

----   
_I will stay forever   
Here with you, my love,   
Softly spoken words you gave me   
Even in death our love goes on_   
----

"Shh, he's coming." Matthias hissed.

"We're never going to get anything done without him, I don't see why we can't show him!" Thomas spat back.

"But he hasn't been quite well since-"

"Since that first test run with the Glycerin 48?" Carl said indignantly. The two horrorstruck aides turned around to face him, coming face to face with a ruffled Carl. "I'll have you know that was months ago and I'm perfectly find now."

"I know that. It's Matthias who's doubting you. Here, Friar Carl, I have this to show you." Thomas held out the automatic crossbow. Both aides could see the sudden, swift change in their tutor's face: the smile wavered and died, then was reborn into a phoenix not half so brilliant as its predecessor. "I was looking at some of your old notes and I thought I had some improvements I could make. I made the canisters much smaller so that we could fit more bolts in all at once. The less the hunters have to reload, the less danger they're-"

"Gabriel."

"Pardon?" Thomas frowned.

"Gabriel. This is Gabriel's crossbow. I made it for his Transylvania mission. You haven't been giving this to anyone else... have you?"

"Well... some of the other hunters requested it and we_did_ loan it out to one or two..." Matthias said guiltily.

"Never do that again." Carl said, his tones as severe as they got as he was taking the crossbow from Thomas. "This is Gabriel's and when he goes on his next mission it needs to be ready for him. Thank you for helping improve it though."

This last remark was added stiffly, grudgingly; Thomas always_had_ been one who was trying to get too big for his britches.

"Brother, Van Helsing is dead." Thomas said bluntly. "He doesn't_need_ it anymore."

"What are you talking about? He's not dead. He's on a mission."

"If it helps you to look at it that way, then yes." Matthias supplemented. "He's on a mission for God, up in Heaven. He's fighting bigger battles now."

"No, he's here. But he's still fighting for God. He's fighting for all of us..."

"For you?" Thomas asserted. "Oh, don't think half the Order doesn't know about the two of you. Most of us have frowned on it, but we let it pass. You need to let him go! Go to the confessional, rid yourself of the sins that passed between you..."

"When did love become a sin? When?" He demanded.

"If you can't handle it then maybe you should leave the Order!" Thomas shouted back.

"No! I can't!" Carl seemed suddenly wild with desperation. "I have to stay here until Gabriel gets back! I have to wait until he's back from his mission! Don't you see? If I go anywhere else he won't know where to find me!" With that, he was off again and back to his garret. He had a feeling Gabriel_would_ be back soon. He spat on the ground at his feet; his lips were still bleeding.

----   
_Some say I'm crazy for my love   
Mm-hmmm my love   
But no words can take me from your side   
Mm-hmmm my love_   
----

Carl's legs were stiff with cold and disuse when he started to head back down into the catacombs. He didn't know how long he'd been up there, staring at the courtyard and thinking about what his aides had said, about what Cardinal Jinette had said. He had been fooling himself from the moment he returned to Vatican City. Gabriel was dead, and Thomas was right. If he couldn't accept their love have been a sin- which he couldn't -he should just leave.

But not before saying good-bye.

His feet crunched softly in the wet grass; it was spring, and the night was lovely and warm down here compared to the drafty garret where he had been sitting for however long he had been sitting there. It whispered to him, sending odd flickers of Van Helsing fluttering through him: his smile, his laugh, his determination, his fire. Little snippets of him that had become pieces of his existence. With every breath he drew, he drew them deep within, and with every exhale, he let them go.

It wasn't easy.

Part of him felt like he was betraying Gabriel by leaving him. But he could still hear his voice in his head, and if he concentrated hard enough he could still feel his touch on his skin. There were parts of him that no amount of exhaling could ever take away; memories may have killed his lover, but they would be what kept Carl alive.

----   
_They don't know that you can't leave me   
They don't hear you singing to me_   
----

He knelt at the gravestone's side, and for the first time touched it. Just touched it, felt the coldness beneath his fingers. Gabriel was dead. 

"I don't want to believe you." He whispered. "You know how I like being right. But somehow, Van Helsing, I think you've got me this time. But if you're willing to concede defeat, I'm going to give you one last chance. Either come out from behind the gravestone now or don't come back at all." Part of him still expected to see his Hunter sidling out from behind the stone marker with that insufferable smirk on his face. But when there was nothing, another part of him wasn't that surprised at all. 

"God, you aren't going to make this easy." His laugh was a shuddering one, caught between joy and sorrow. "But don't make it too hard, because if you do I don't know if I'll be able to go on at all." 

Memory hit him in a flash: Gabriel stood on a cliff overlooking the sea. He himself was reading over the burning pyre of a gypsy princess. The longing was thick in the air, an aching sorrow evanescent as smoke but strong as stone. You could feel Gabriel wanting Anna desperately, wanting to hold her, or just to tell her he was sorry and that he loved her. And then... that longing, that smoke, took form. It touched his cheek, convinced him to look up and look the world in the eye again, reminding him of who he was. And then it left, allowed itself to be carried away and back into the arms of those it loved... but not before one final good-bye and a thank you. Anna had found a way to come and say good-bye to the man she loved.   
Carl looked up, almost not of his own will, and smiled. He could feel that his cheeks were wet, and not just with tears, with a gentle brush of lips too. Van Helsing had come here to say good-bye, had given him that memory of what it felt like for him to let go. He didn't promise anything, didn't say it would be easy and didn't say he would be there when it wasn't, but he reminded him what it_was_ to let go. He was so grateful it took him a long time to find the ability to speak, and when he did he was as solemn as he ever got. 

"You know what Gabriel? I will go on. I'll leave the Order, move to Transylvania, and learn how to fight because I know that would make you laugh. Hell, I'll even marry that barmaid and raise a whole battalion of children, and we'll take on the world. But no matter what I do..... no matter where I go..... No matter who I take to my bed. 

"I will always love you. I will leave my heart at this place, leave it here to keep you happy. And here it will be to remain. Here with you, my love._oh,_ my love.... Because not even death can stop us." 

Tears ran trembling down his cheeks, frightened by such beautiful, barefaced love. The forbidden romances are always the strongest. No one said letting go would be easy. Carl's hands shook too, shook with the pain and love, the raw, all-consuming emotion they sought to portray as they traced the name on the grave with all the poignancy possible in a single motion. He bent- his lips were trembling too -and kissed the word 'Gabriel.' 

"I love you." 

And the whole world trembled at those words.   
----   
_I will stay forever   
Here with you, my love,   
Softly spoken words you gave me   
Even in death our love goes on_   
---- 

The darkness was warm and soft, almost a physical thing. There was a soft pressure against his lips, soft but insistent, and when it was gone he missed it. But then a new dimension was added to his existence, as intriguing as the darkness and the pressure: sound. 

"Carl. Carl. Wake up! Hurry!" 

"Van Helsing...?" Carl could barely rasp out. 

"Yes. I'd give you your prize now, but I'm afraid there isn't time." 

"It can't be you," Carl wheezed, sitting up and finding himself lying on the ground near where he had seen the hole consume his lover. "I let you go..." 

"There's no time for that now. I need you to hold on to me while I stand up." Gabriel insisted. Carl complied weakly, holding onto his forearms as he leapt to his feet. 

"Hold on? But you told me to let go..." 

"Why would I tell you something like that?" Van Helsing asked, muddled. 

"Because you were dead... and you reminded me what it was like to lose Anna... and you told me that I needed to let go.... it wasn't easy, and it hurt, but somehow it felt right... partings are such sweet sorrow..." Carl's eyes could barely focus as he looked out over the landscape of the Vatican City. 

"I think that rock hit you harder than I originally thought." The Hunter snorted. 

"You hit me with a rock?" Carl cried. 

"No, you did it yourself. Tripped and fell smack on your face running towards me." 

"Then it was all a dream..." 

"Yes, you were out for a few minutes." 

"Oh... well, then why are we running? You should be checking for a concussion or something! And I can't believe you had the gall to almost die on me! And that kiss! I was tasting blood on my lips for weeks! And that _hole_! What happened to it? How did you-" 

Gabriel was sure the rant was going to go on, but he didn't have time for this. Cardinal Jinette was approaching and he didn't look pleased that he had seen Gabriel and his Friar lying on the pavement kissing. Besides, he had plans that he had been laying while on his missions- safe places and money stored away -and now was as good a time as any to enact them. They'd save the Cardinal the trouble of excommunicating them; they'd run away. 

"There's no time for that now, Carl." He insisted. "We need to get out of here." 

"Kiss me." Carl demanded suddenly, pulling them to a halt. Without a thought, Van Helsing pulled his Friar against him and kissed him, hard but loving all at once. When they tore away, they were both breathless. Almost instinctively, Carl's tongue darted out and ran over his lips. 

No blood. 

"_Now_ can we go?" Van Helsing asked urgently, looking nervously over their shoulder. 

"Why so eager?" Carl pried coyly, slipping his hand into Gabriel's. 

"Oh, no special reason..." His lover replied distantly, his other hand sliding into his coat pocket as they ran, hand in hand, side by side, undefeatable. He thought happily of the horses waiting for them outside the city, the retreats, extra money and willing priest hiding out in Transylvania, all the while fingering the gold ring in his pocket. 

----   
_And I can't love you anymore   
Than I do now...._   
----

* * *

A/N-- Had you fooled, didn't I? I'll bet you thought he'd die in this one... hehe.... well, thank you for reading this fic, I've had so much fun writing it. It has truly been a roller coaster, and while emotionally draining it was all worth it when I got your beaming reviews. Thank you. Thank you so much. 


	14. Finale 2: 'Til I Get Over You

A/N-- Not much to say but enjoy! 

This finale's song is _'Til I Get Over You_ by Michelle Branch.

* * *

Chapter 14:   
'Til I Get Over You 

Gabriel stepped close to Carl, kissed him; the Friar tasted the salt of his lover's tears where they stained his lips. He opened his mouth to question him, to say something, anything, and hear his voice answering, but Van Helsing held one finger to his lips; now he tasted blood. Blood and tears, they formed the foundation for everything they were, everything they had become. They were everything that kept them apart. Slowly, with infinite sadness, the Hunter shook his head and stepped away.

Carl reached out feebly, like a sleepy person navigating the hall to the bathroom, and called his name, a child calling out in nightmare. _Oh God no..._ He thought, seeing Van Helsing walk towards the hole in the ground filled with swirling blue. Forlornly, he reached out to stroke the mirror before it, like the big man had stroked his little Friar's hair when he had been half-asleep. He realized then what the hole was wrought of. That portal was made of his blood, his tears, his agony.

His love.

It could not be stopped. Not until they stopped loving each other. Carl tried to call out to Gabriel, but could find nothing to say. He turned and looked back at him again.

"This love... it's almost too much. What am I going to do with it? What?"

"No... don't go..." Carl called out feebly, holding his hand. "Don't cross this bridge... I'm not there yet..."

"Sorry, Carl." Van Helsing said with a half smile. "I can't wait for you to catch up."

"But I'm right here. Right here. I came for you..." He whispered, taking the Hunter's hand. Gently, Van Helsing squeezed it back, and then brought it to his lips.

"Think about it, love. The world will see this as retribution for my crimes. Why can't you see it that way." He whispered, the words materializing as warmth against Carl's skin.

"But not this way! I won't have you taken from me this way!" He whispered fiercely, grabbing Van Helsing's shoulder. "I've accepted that you'll die some day. But it wasn't supposed to be while_I_ was still alive!"

"Is there another way?" Van Helsing shouted desperately "If there is, then tell me! I could never stop loving you, and that's what caused this." He shook his head so hard that droplets of sweat and tears flew off his face and were thrown violently about in the wind. Slowly, he stumbled back from Carl. "Never. Never."

"Even in death?" The Friar shouted as his Hunter walked away from him, towards the hole. Gabriel Van Helsing never heard. He could not give his Friar that final consolation of an immortal love. What happened next he never accurately remembered. He was blown away, literally. He tried to call out for Gabriel, tried to stand, tried fight, but he lost his voice and the world was holding him down, holding him back. When at last he struggled to his feet, it was too late.

Debris was scattered all around as though a children had lost its temper with its toys. Otherwise, everything had returned to normal. Except for the sun, which was ashamed to show its face as a lonely figure collapsed at the side of a larger one, cradled it, wrapped itself in its stillness. Watching, Cardinal Jinette knew exactly who those two figures were. Friar and Hunter formed a picture of martyrdom straight of the storybooks, lonely out there in the quiet.

"Well," sighed one of Carl's aides- Thomas, Jinette thought his name was -sighed. "At least the world didn't end."

"No," Jinette replied softly, watching as Carl's faint tears broke out into wracking sobs, hearing him call Gabriel's name over and over again, the words stabbing into his heart like knives. "It did."

* * *

"Carl! Oh, it's been so long!" 

"Yes." Carl offered his mother the best smile he could manage at the moment, which was really more a twitch of the lips.

"Robert? Someone get Robert and Carolyn down here. Carl's home!" She turned and ran inside, leaving her son in the doorway of his house. Carl made no move to follow.

It had taken Jinette less than a week after Gabriel's death to send Carl back to his home in England. He knew it was the Cardinal's way of getting rid of him without excommunicating him. Perhaps the man did have a compassionate bone in his body after all... somewhere, in that tough skeleton.

He wasn't quite sure what he was saying as he embraced his uncle, Robert, and his aunt, Carolyn, but he assumed the responses were appropriate as they hugged him harder and smiled. His mother was bustling around, shouting something about having some cake left over for them. He felt himself smiling, a motion that was still uncertain for him.

"Are you alright, my favorite nephew?" Robert asked, putting his arm around the Friar. Carl forced his smile to stop twitching downwards.

"Of course." He responded. "Trip was a bit long, that's all. It's never felt so long before."

"I bet you left a lot of friends behind, a charming young man like yourself." His aunt laughed. "Loneliness can make everything seem longer."

"But absence makes the heart grow fonder." His mother quoted, leaving a wet kiss on his cheek and thrusting a slice of cake into his arms.

Carl's smile hurt now. But still he bravely manned its post. Would Gabriel have given up? Would he have stopped smiling? No. He could have sworn he was grinning even as he stepped off into death's embrace and out of his love's.

_I would've given you a penny for your thoughts at that moment. You wouldn't even have to ask like last time._ Carl whispered to the Gabriel he kept in his head. Carls tended to get very lonely without their Gabriels. That was an irrefutable fact now, surrounded by his family, stepping out into the sunshine of the porch.

----   
_Every time I feel alone   
I can blame it on you   
And I do, oh   
You've got me like a loaded gun   
Golden sun and sky so blue, oh_   
----

Day passed into night, warmth succumbing to cold. Carl found his room unchanged and collapsed onto the bed that had been his until he was thirteen and taken away to work for the Order. The transition wasn't such a hard one. He'd grown up an only child with no father and only his mother until his aunt and uncle came to live with them. Tenacious and vivacious as he was, most teenagers his age could not understand how he could spend hours reading, writing and drawing, scheming and even thinking about philosophy, daring to dream still. He was eager to be going off to a community full of knowledge and faith. He would be understood there.

He tossed and turned on his bed, finally settling on his stomach. That was odd. It should be harder to leave home, not harder to return. But without Gabriel... nowhere was home. He had left almost nothing behind when he had left home. Leaving the Vatican, he left everything behind.

'Everything' was a handful of memories, a bucket full of tears and a single gravestone in the corner of a cemetery. But they were memories he ambled through every day, tears he cried every time he was alone, and a gravestone that he would caress as though it was his lover's skin. But maybe it was right of Jinette to send him away, before he grew attached to those. Before moving on became impossible.

He forced the librarians to keep him out of their library, no matter how badly he needed to be there. Only his aides could go in for him. He was afraid of what he would do if he were allowed in there, considering that the last time he had pulled Gabriel back from death's grasp he had almost pulled the world down on their heads. And he wanted his Gabriel back so badly.

"You wanted me to come on missions with you." Carl murmured. "You said the Carls didn't have much of a choice in the matter. Why wouldn't you let me come on this one...? This last one...? Didn't you want me with you...?" Carl rolled over onto his side and then his back. Shakespeare had been wrong to kill Romeo_and_ Juliet, if it was tragedy he was after. Nothing could surpass the pain of being left behind.

----   
_We both know that we want it   
But we both know you've left me no choice_   
----

Carl tried to tire himself out thinking about his inventions, but it just wasn't working. He hadn't even touched any of them since Van Helsing's death, sticking mostly to watching his aides work and guiding them in their own. In that respect, he was very angry at the Hunter for going and dying on him. Nothing was much fun anymore without that insufferable smirk.

He started and leapt to his feet at the first feeling of tears on his cheeks. No. He would not,_could not_, cry here. He jerked on his pants and a shirt, casting his nightshirt aside, and bolted out of his room, out into the cold night air. It slammed into him like a physical force, impelling him to go back inside. There had been no one there for him at the funeral, or for the horrible days before and after. The least he could do for himself was allow someone to comfort him now.

_No!_ He shouted inwardly. I'm going to be stubborn now. I'm not going to give Gabriel the satisfaction of making me run crying to my mother. I'm not going to let him laugh at me, wherever he is, for it! I won't!

So he sat down under the tree where he had first dreamed of being a great inventor and felt the debris of those shattered dreams bite into him, a bitter regret for things lost and given up on, reminding him of his failure to be strong and go on. He sat there and counted to ten, waiting for himself to calm down.

He had counted to ten twenty times before he could finally control his tears.

"I hope we meet in Hell someday." He told the air around him. "I can't wait for that day. I can't bloody wait."

----   
_(Chaque fois que tu ton va)   
You just bring me down   
(Je pretend que tu fais bien)   
So I'm counting my tears   
'Til I get over you_   
----

"Good morning!" His mother beamed, yanking the covers off his body as she had done every other day of his life at home. Well, at least she did it with a sense of humor and a helping of good cheer. Carl rolled and put his feet on the ground. "What? No 'five more minutes'?" Carl stared blinking at her for a minute, then shook his head no and stood up. "Get back in bed this instant!" She ordered. "Ask me for five more minutes, like you always used to do!" "But I'm awake..." "I don't care! Do it! Like you used to!"

"Things change, Mama." Carl groaned, rubbing his eyes.

"Things do not change, we change." His mother said sternly.

"We die." Carl murmured. There was a tiredness in his voice, a bastard child whose parentage was not from sleep deprivation.

"That too. But we live with the fact, don't we?" She laughed suddenly at her own paradox, repeating it to herself as she bustled down the hall. Carl followed her downstairs after a minute or two, running into several corners on his way. He wished he had Gabriel's focus in the morning. No matter how long they had been up the night previous in their brief history as lovers, he had always awoken ready to take on the world and win. He woke up quailing at the thought of having to conquer the walk to the door.

But Gabriel's mornings were just that: focused. If he wanted to get an early start, he'd get it. If he wanted to have Carl screaming his name before leaving the room, then there was no dallying about it, however delicious dallying could be.   
_I've got one thing on you,_ Carl thought smugly. _At least after I've conquered the walk to the door I come out smiling._

----   
_Sometimes I watch the world go by   
I wonder what it's like   
To wake up every single day,   
Smile on your face,   
You never tried.   
_----

When he came downstairs to the kitchen a determined smile, which was a lovely room that managed to be cozy and airy at once, his mother was nowhere in sight. But there was his Aunt Carolyn, sitting at the table sipping coffee. Her husband came up behind her, sneaking a flower from a nearby vase, and presented it to her with a flourish. She laughed and tipped her head back, welcoming his tender kiss.

Carl had to work not to collapse and retreated back up the stairs just in case he did.

* * *

_"Awake already? I'm proud of you." Gabriel smiles. An arm slides around the shoulders of the man he's proud of, who smiles back inwardly but outwardly only grunts. _

"I don't see why I should be. I haven't exactly gotten a prize yet." Gabriel smiles, that smile that can be wicked at times and gentle at others, wry but hopeful. The smile of a man of sacrifice, of courage, of character. He was smiling a lover's smile then. They smile often; deep down they know they will not smile soon.

"Congratulations." He hands the man he's proud of a biscuit, quite ceremoniously stuffing it in his mouth.

The man he's proud of chokes and sputters, finally managing to swallow.

"Death is a prize?"

"You bet. A prize you have to earn after long years of slogging through living."

"Well, life hasn't been all that draconian."

Gabriel raises an eyebrow.

"Kiss me." The man he's proud of says, turning around.

He leans in slowly; it promises to be a slow and thorough kiss. A warm brush of air sweeps the crumbs from his mouth and a lithe pink tongue sneaks out to taste the clean, soft lips.

"No." He dares to breathe, turning and darting for the door.

The man he's proud of chases after him, catches him outside on the deck of the ship. The world is stirring faintly under dawn's patient gaze and the air is tinged with pockets of cool, moistened by the sea. He catches the Hunter and holds him, about to demand his kiss... the captain of the ship passes, and they freeze, stepping apart slowly, casually. They've become used to hiding their love. But they haven't become used to containing their passion; perhaps they don't want to. The man he is proud of can't resist the urge to reach out and take Gabriel's hand as the captain passes without a second glance.   
And Carl realizes then that it's these simple moments, the touch of a hand, the wind toying with their hair, standing close enough so that the playful strands touch each others faces and intertwine, that he will always remember.

* * *

And now under the force of memory Carl felt himself wanting to collapse. Oh, memory was a force... but it was invisible. It wasn't warm, it didn't smile, it didn't touch his hand and stand next to him on ships, staring at the horizon and feeling for once that there might still be hope left for this world and hope still left for love. And memory was what had stolen Gabriel from him. But who could change it? Memories were the past. No amount of longing could undo that.

----   
_We both know we can't change it   
But we both know we'll just have to face it_   
----

_"Awake this early? I'm proud."_

"I can't wait to see you in Hell." He whispered thickly, but this time with no bitterness. "I'll be proud of you for waiting."

"Carl? Are you coming to breakfast?"

"Yes, Mama." He called back down.

"There you are!" She beamed- but then, she was always beaming -as he sat. "I thought you said that things change! And here you are, late as always!"

"Things do not change. We change." He quoted back at her, unable to keep his eyes from straying to Carolyn. Mercifully, Robert was keeping his hands away from her.

"Is something wrong, Carl?" She asked with a frown, pausing in the cutting of her sausage.

"Are you still tired from your trip?" Her husband asked, mimicking her expression.

"Nonsense!" His mother bustled. "All he needs is fresh air! The beach always cheered you up, ever since you were a baby in my arms and at my breast-"

"Mama!"

"It's settled then! To the beach we go after breakfast!" She finished.

Glumly, Carl ate his meal. He forced himself to want to go to the beach. Dammit, he was going to survive this! He was going to survive without Gabriel, however hard it was!

All breakfast, he smiled and laughed until it hurt. In his room, he screamed into his arms, clenched his fists and beat them against the bed. _I will survive you, Gabriel! You aren't taking me down!_

----   
_(Chaque fois que tu ton va)   
You just bring me down   
(Je pretend que tu fais bien)   
So I'm counting my tears   
'Til I get over you_   
----

"Are you sure he's alright?" Carolyn asked, holding Robert's hand as they progressed down the beach. It was noon, and Carl and his mother were ahead of them.

"I don't know." Robert said through pursed lips.

"It's like... he's forcing himself to put on foot in front of the other... to..."

"Keep living?"

"Exactly... You talk to him. You were like his father before he left here, and he's like the son we can never have to me now. Talk to him." She pleaded.

Robert looked up and saw that Carl had stopped near the water, his arms crossed. His mother approached him; they had words, and she was sent away scowling. He remained, resolute but irresolute, refusing to be moved but clearly shaken.

"Here goes nothing." He murmured, releasing his wife and approaching his nephew.

Carl couldn't help but feel angry at himself for yelling at his mother, but he hadn't known how else to react. If he didn't tell her about Gabriel, maybe it could be like it never happened. Cardinal Jinette probably never intended for him to come back, and so he might as well look upon this as the start of a new life. But how could he begin to go on living without Gabriel...? Maybe he could do it if he gave his Hunter, his lover, his friend, his Gabriel, the cold shoulder. Pretended he had never existed.

_I have to let you go._ Carl thought to himself. He knew Gabriel could hear. _You have to let me let go.   
_   
"Carl?" He heard his uncle's voice but didn't respond, moving on down the beach instead. He needed to let go alone.

----   
_Chaque fois que tu ton va   
Je pretend que tu fais bien_   
----

The ocean had always filled him to his brim with emotions and ideas. It had always filled him with a longing for elsewhere,_any_ elsewhere. It did the same to him now: it filled him with the longing to be anywhere but here, now that nowhere was home. He needed to be anywhere but here, where Gabriel was. But then, Gabriel would never leave him. He'd always be there. A gift and a curse. Rather annoying, too.

But here, here... Gabriel's presence was especially strong. He was in the sand between his toes, the cold water, the breeze, the sun... and though here it was relatively warm and open and bright, he kept seeing the place they had buried his Hunter. He had gone there often before the Cardinal had sent him away. He had spent long hours there, talking to him. He knew he was listening, somewhere. Maybe, if he talked to Van Helsing enough, told him how much he missed him, he would come back. Carl sat down slowly, feeling suddenly weak as tears formed in his eyes.

He knew he would never come back.

"Carl? Carl?" His uncle was calling him nervously.

Carl ignored him. Just one more look at those eyes.   
----   
_We both know that I'm not over you   
I'm not over you_   
----

He thought he saw a flicker of gold at the corner of his eye and turned, but it was only the sunlight playing across the rolling waves of the ocean.

Wordlessly, he stood and walked away.

----   
_(sigh)_   
----

* * *

A/N-- French translation: Chaque fois que tu ton va- Every time you look my way Je pretend que tu frais bien- I pretend that I'm okay (dunno how accurate it is, I got it from the Michelle Branch CD Hotel Paper so I cannot be held accountable)   
....I'm sorry for the sad ending. But it just worked so well...... sort of. I thought I could've done better on it. Thank you, than you,_thank_ you to all that helped me with this story through their reviews and unrelenting support. It never would've been finished without you guys. 


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